close my eyes as I feel melancholy
for a feeling of nothingness i assume i knew
it feels like progress to hold my stare into the wall like its my plushie
shattering morality blaspheming my god for it has forsaken me
chaotic melody of a mind
torture me and my mind but only in moderation
I still repent for the soul, she feeds on virtue, and the bridge to his grace is hatred of the self
the moment we trust ourselves to know is the moment we fall
not that two beings can't be happy in that unknown
spiritual warfare and we've been
malnourished in the slaughterhouse
so if you didn't have to worry about money
what would you wanna do?
creating or just feeling?