God is dead
I
Stick to my guns
As the world spins idly to no end
Seeing shooting stars
Between many moons and suns
False prophets rule to false trends
There is not a soul to recommend
A sense of sanctity to comprehend
There is but revenge in the wild west
The city is our haven
A justified rat race
Demented and misshapen
We spend our time;
Minutes to hours
Cyber surfing
A crypto-scour
The internet has no day or night
No security
Yet we howl at the moon
A redundant plight
Repenting earth for its impurity
Psychosomatic mentality
A reality where legality
Is secondary,
Infantile reptiles lead nations to exile
About the Creator
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