Weaseling

Key in the lock brings you the feeling;
Haunting is a big part of what you’ve been stealing.
A lesson in the cellar and a book in the rack.
You walked into this mess now see if you can get back,
With no directions to justice or connections to climb.
What is the purpose in taking your time?

Fist in the face forges a believing.
All of the voices seem reliant on scheming.
Ghost in the graveyard holding a frog.
Is there a meaning or is it a part like a cog,
In a big machine you do not understand?
The speeches given sound overly grand.

Delusion packed into staged decline;
Everywhere you look is covered in grime.
Sown into sockets which bring forth your fear.
It strikes at your heart like a perfectly hurled spear.
Breeding deicide which has overrun in circles.
Might be why you are stuck with a track full of hurdles.

Systematic sense of self-prevailing sin.
Its accompanied by a staged wide smiling grin.
Sales in motion and a glimmer in the eyes.
Each word that they speak is just to disguise;
Mask the destruction for which they greedily thirst.
Forever they will crave to be the very and only first.

Unwind the connections to solve the mystery.
Each piece is wrapped in a bloated dynasty,
Of sick minded masters begging for bread.
Below the surface maybe you’ll learn of skins shed,
By the fools who played in the fires.
Far too obsessed with their hungry desires.

Languish under skies of melting moons.
Where you reside is frequented by nothing but loons.
Harbour or commit heresy for the solution.
That can be your one and only contribution,
In a parade built on rubble.
You know you will soon be in deep trouble.

Slam shut the door if you hope to escape.
If you don’t you’ll face an endless scrape.
The skinning of memories until they are spent,
Into the whirlwind of lies endlessly sent.
But you want a victimless type of life,
So do as is written before comes tricked sacrifice.

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