Hour 11: Nihilistic Part III.

and we circle back, a routine, suffering in a broken hymnal.

a serpent ate your fruit,

punished you in your desolate lands,

stuck you out in the garden against the burning sun,

to think you had all the bones and all the gold between your fingers,

shuffling the universe in your hands,

you hold infinity as a lover,

claim that duality was still despair,

darkness met your light and fucked it until there was nothing left,

nothing matters, we exist, in this temporary state,

but I am blessed in diamond skin, wincing at the thought of never finding eternity.

I see weakness glide off your skin, you hold me in the wind, and say do not go, but do not stay,

I crave every opportunity, when you stole my eyes and told me to see something bigger than this,

but you say nothing exists in color.

a serpent keeps stealing you, eating your fruit,

and plucking hope from your mouth,

I doubt the ruling of this land,

our garden flourishes but you demand a desert, I cannot give you that,

when there is still so much to offer.

we have left this land in favor of growth,

come follow me into the 5th dimension,

steal all the prayers, and turn away and give nothing back.

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