The point of the Meaningless

-1

I've hated all that I was because I couldn't be who I thought I should be
And with a passing glance at the vast shadowed past, alone I stand with all that I have.
Memories.... how they fade so fast.
Humanity.... was not made to last
But with facts we distract our soul from its track and hope and pray that our heart's turn back to its path

God is not wrath, nor anything rash. More like a hashed mask desguising a map. 8 ways to travel because x marks the spot. Once x is reached the traveler doesn't stop. Turning back to restart. Resetting the clock

A loop? A slip or glitch in the sequence? Or is all that lies before us imagined? Existing without ryhme or reason

Painted and sculpted by the artist
I am the puddy, life is my artist
I am the canvas. The way is the painting. Feelings are colors.
Objects and shapes are the events that wrote the story of you. Me.

Lost in time and space. Searching for truths face. Never to witness a trace. Bland scenes laced with flavor. We favor what feels good and cast out all the rest. How blessed is a creature with such grandios will.
How else does such intelligence cope with the fact he's but a meere ant in the great veiw.
Perceiving and analysing all that surrounds him
This awakened sight empowers him... then devours him.
Self hatred and sin.. tick tock.... spreading hours thin.

True bliss lives within. Reaching heaven through fantasies of new life that brings hope. But this hope hangs like a rope. So I hope it would help pull me up afloat
But instead it tied a knot and yoked me up around my throat

The escape from this pain
Had given meaning and faith
The insane just wish to tame the tangled web's in their brain.
For infact it is strained to cope on a social level.
Society breads psychos who socialize to desguise the nothing that's inside.

The nothing must be filled, emptiness killed
Broken hearts must be milled and regrets must be tilled.
All selfish will topped over and spilled

Reaching nirvana once the flesh is disceased. Blindly chasing these dreams of things were raised to believe we need.
Reaching our final destination, right when it can be seen
As a mirage it slips away through the seams