Patchwork

Impact on the subtle shame
When did life become this pain?
A tormented wisp of nothing more…
Than a hand crushing your organ core
While a circle becomes the drain
A quest for fame will drive you insane
So remember what you wanted most
Give that up you morph to a ghost

Hampered by what should have been
The claw down the back of living
Paralyse then reap and steal
This has become what is ideal
No point in dwelling in the sun
Before too long you’ll be long gone
So remember hope when in the clouds
Forgetting yourself will make you dowd

Obsessing in the empty cave
What a way to abandon brave
Wither then just simply fade
Digging yourself an early grave
Nothing more than lost not found
What a way to be put in the ground
Sad state while hammering nails
It’s why the collective face has failed

Patched up like a mismatched thing
Little left to be called being
Shelling like it is your skin
I am one and you are him
But none of that will change the route
Entity that has become a brute
So listen long and listen well
What remains is how we fashioned hell