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Chapter Four

'The Beautiful Lies'

This is the poison we take to remain oblivious. Drowning in the lies of the devious. Breaking the backs of the infected while pinning blame to all of societies rejected. Hypocrisy became the law of the land, where it is do what I say, sit or stand. Bark or beg just for the scraps of the day. Drowning in the sea of shame, where guilt is the anchor to our brain. The illusion lies within the palm of your hand, dreams manifested into something grand. Majestic creatures bred into sin, raised to believe the righteous shall win.

The beautiful lie, that everyone will eventually die. Truth found in the mystery that only those who have gone before us shall know. The beautiful lie that the myth is more important than the ride. That life in all it's flaws gives to us a unique canvas in which to paint a masterpiece.

“We are hypocrites, and all the sins that we commit.

We are devils who wear halos built with good intent

and while we live, and we die.

We weave the story of our life.

As we march towards the chaos,

and as slaves death shall be our conquest.”

Can you wake up, before it becomes to late? Can you open your mind to a simple discussion, issues of the true debate?

Our future has no current fate, but that which we create.

Will you bow before you are even defeated? Will you give up when you feel you are no longer even needed? When they demand your pound of flesh, will you go quietly into the night, or stand and protest? If your world crashes down and suicide becomes your ultimate test, will you reside to admit that your soul has already died, or will you realize you are alive, and the true test is just to survive.

“I will live, and I will be free

as no one shall hold power over me”

We are destroying ourselves, hellbent on murder in the name of defense. Fear causing our hands to become stained with blood. Shadows that dance in the corners of our eyes, spook the easily scared. Where giants feast behind their fancy tables, silver plates with their silver tongues. Where we the puppets dangle from our strings attached to their billion dollar fingers. Surfs all dancing to the mockery of the play, as the world and the economy become the stage. Actors feeding the zombies the entertainment to distract them from any real substance. The sideshow of the mad circus, the illusion of plastics.

Public opinion from a fickle mob, swayed to create one day, bribed to destroy the next. All wrapped up neat with fancy words and all is well just as long as the minority remain compliant. In the age of decay, death becomes all the rage, where morality is traded for vanity.

We kill and murder for reasons as depraved as self satisfaction, we realize that in our capacity of evil we have the ability to destroy ourselves, that we can stare into the mirror and see the devil as our reflection. Standing before the abyss, observing an endless struggle since before the beginning of time itself, the polar oppositions of right and wrong, good and bad. Fronted with the most puzzling of all mysteries, the paradox of dualities. The opposites and the attractions. This strange, strange existence.

“We all struggle against the vibrations of conflict

but to realize the limitless potential that we posses

That if we are to survive our infancy.

There would be no limit to our possibilities

for our gift to learn and adapt,

gives us the survivor within ourselves.”