Doc.
January 16th, 2008, 10:36 PM
Circles.
Circles of life, circles of death
They scream in torment, souls unpardoned with melancholy sorrow, rage, and regret. What do they have to fear, though? You and you alone, right? Wrong. They fear what you fear, and that isn't fear itself or some such nonsense. Valid fears, invalid fears, they mean nothing, everything, so little, so much.
What's happening? Why...why? What is this loneliness you feel as the corpses stare you in the face, curious and quivering. They want what you want, know what you know, feel what you feel, though they feel nothing, nothing at all. Then again, neither do you. You follow the path and eat it too, not knowing why, not knowing who.
Tell the world of your suffering, but nobody will listen.
See the corpses, their writhing arms begging you to free them, begging you to break the chains of bondage and suffering. You don't, of course, for that is not who you are and is not who you can become. You are not infinite, though the Circles would tell you otherwise. Love is nothing but an baseless plaster, a porcelain mask so full of disaster.
Follow Them. Follow the Circles, around and around, down, down, down...down...down...
My god, the carnage.
If I told you I was afraid, I lied. I was more than afraid, I was terrified. In fact, I still am. Please, please...just...Give me the dust.
Circles of life, circles of death
They scream in torment, souls unpardoned with melancholy sorrow, rage, and regret. What do they have to fear, though? You and you alone, right? Wrong. They fear what you fear, and that isn't fear itself or some such nonsense. Valid fears, invalid fears, they mean nothing, everything, so little, so much.
What's happening? Why...why? What is this loneliness you feel as the corpses stare you in the face, curious and quivering. They want what you want, know what you know, feel what you feel, though they feel nothing, nothing at all. Then again, neither do you. You follow the path and eat it too, not knowing why, not knowing who.
Tell the world of your suffering, but nobody will listen.
See the corpses, their writhing arms begging you to free them, begging you to break the chains of bondage and suffering. You don't, of course, for that is not who you are and is not who you can become. You are not infinite, though the Circles would tell you otherwise. Love is nothing but an baseless plaster, a porcelain mask so full of disaster.
Follow Them. Follow the Circles, around and around, down, down, down...down...down...
My god, the carnage.
If I told you I was afraid, I lied. I was more than afraid, I was terrified. In fact, I still am. Please, please...just...Give me the dust.