• These transactions don't satisfy your thirst
    But instead make your quench worse.
    Feeding you images of deception to a world now unseen;
    Choking the righteous and encouraging the senseless,
    Down a tunnel with two ways to go.

    Your first way feeds on your debased sanity.
    Grasp unto chance withheld by the vile
    And you will see the light of day;
    Everything will be perceived in a new way
    Guiding your path to freedom.

    The other depends on your resignation to this world.
    Choose this path to a tomb that reads,
    “If only we were there.”
    Continue to feed the toxin to your veins
    While slowly you decay to your grave.

    Your eyes can cry hero;
    They can bleed sorrow.
    Unto this world of madness
    Where worse things are considered sane
    And yours- impractical.