The Great Dying
Fight with what you have, with what’s in reach.
Not even makers can make their own peace.
Choosing to stand where most cannot see seems clever to whom it deceives.
Open your eyes, and take off the veil. Decide if the Dying is real.
Make up your province and stand in dismay.
Because it is too late you’ve dug your own grave.
If Freedom is what you seek sorry, there is none left for sale.
Hide in the lies you believe, The Great Dying’s here.
Hide inside your box and wait for change, of who’s running who in this game.
Waiting for prophets to sing of high praise, seems better suited for kings.
Through all that you touch, and all that you feel, yes decide if the Dying is real.
Make up your province and stand in dismay,
For it’s too late you’ve dug your own grave.
All that you touch, and all that you see,
The feeling is void, to false sovereignty.
But I’ll choose my soul.
I see what you’ve done, and what you plan,
A clever seduction of man,
Kill off all the lights and let the show begin,
I’m ready for our time to end.
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