Blue [the Chronicling of an Era]

Section VIII [Manufactured Bliss]

Alas, you can’t hear my screams

Above the ringing in your ears

Laying limp and fragile in my arms

Eyes washed completely by a burning substance you ingested

You are not in your shell of safety

Floating around in swirls, tasting the stars

Adrift in a sea of manufactured bliss

Until daybreak it will be my task to play anchor for you

Such a pretty girl with no direction

Confined, with no safe way to escape

Wearing her issues for all to see

Yet denying their existence whenever they are called upon

This night has been as reckless as you

But you won’t let anyone care, for shame