The poison of irrationality clouds the minds of these people
Living their days being fermented by larva's judgment
Savage beasts that have a bias as their steeple
Their stupidity has no atonement
Not a single soul cares for their duty
Everything is given to them by some higher being
No respect, no honor, no sense of responsibility
Ethics feels like poison to their well-being
Glued to them as if it were part of their bodies
A pungent odor emanates. Reminding me of burnt plastic
Stereotypical and strongest in society's high ladies
The poison of material goods seems almost ecclesiastic
The loss of someone loved stagnates their progress
They mourn needlessly over a trivial matter
There is no point. Death is a bless
For poison cannot reach them. Steel doesn't shatter
Growth changes their very core
Personal changes, social interactions. Both physically and mentally
A change in direction, sense, and orientation mislead to gore
This poison rots them fundamentally
No use in looking back, in self-righteousness
The parasitic spores of the past contaminate their goals
Looking at themselves in a broken mirror for approval in life's graciousness
This poison reflects their souls
The world isn't black and white
Their minds only see the greater good of two evils
Their ideals clash with poisons truth in a fight against blight
No one can see the difference between truth, just, and ideal's needles
The strong lead and work alone. The weak follow and support
When everything is lost, poison makes you quit
It cuts your journey short
They can't see they are not alone. A power dormant in their hearts won't transmit due to poisons' spit
Sacrifice is necessary for life to improve. Nothing is free
They are capable of so much when the time needs them to overcome
Strong bonds to the living and the death give them the strength they need. That's my goal's key
To make them perfect. That's what humans will become
I have the cure to this poison, this deceases
A machine cannot be envenomed
My perfect utopia made of steel and people's pieces
No errors, no deaths, no evils, no illnesses. The human imperfection will be benumbed
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. Sooner or later, we all crumble beneath our fears. It's up to us to recall what makes us human and stand strong against adversity. Memories, shattered and scattered throughout our lives, come to us one by one.
