Cessate

[Illume]

A mind fuck: I’m alive punk. I’m a pheonix rising.
My truth’s are news a pessimist would cry with.
I shout ‘’nonviolence’’ to bring me a triumph.
Then sit silent. And get killed in the tryin’.
So what?
We define what we lie with based on the life that we lead,
I'd die to my senses if it meant my life could be free.
We are bonded stencils lent an image in eye,
To pencil in time in a box with limits in height.
Define trueness. Haha. Moment’s confusin'.
It's order from nature, some constructs from a view shit.
See you're fucked if you don't and fucked if you do it. Lesson.
Best sit in the middle with just riddles and questions.
It's all flux and we cling to the stuff that we've made,
Why, when it's dust and our grave's are the stuff that remains?