Outward/Counter-Relief

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Crossing Worlds

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"I just hate life; life is a book from Frank McCourt
We descend, ascend, and get treated like a whore..."

Come forward-friends and foes
Come forward-to this rhetoric of No
March upon your own disgrace
No time for grace
Either way, the higher ones spit on your face
And the machine consumes your soul

Is there such thing as one soul?
This idolatry patronizes us all
But very deep beneath eyelids; a look of haughty disdain

Time ticks, blood runs in every vein. Every time less
Get up, dress, and leave
Leben nicht hatte ein Motif
It just grinds you like a coffee bean
That is what you can't see
We animals only have a need to live
Eat, drink, and plant our seed
At any cost, free, or no will
Whom we loathe, we ought to kill

Come forward-where else could you possibly go?
Come forward-Niemand knows less, Niemand knows more.
Forward! Impulse to he exterior
March upon your disgrace
Now you know, there is no grace
Existence travels one way

Release that hatred
That's all there is; if not, what else be?
Besides flesh, veins, arteries, and blood
Nil resides inside my heart
My mind is the command; our mouths stay shut
Their tissues shape upward only to sympathize
But comfort is a lie
The most honest type is that one who's just there
The one who hates, kills, and molests, and tells us why
The one who understands we're just here

The only true peace is null

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