Tattered deviations in a blink of an eye unfold behind wicked lies,
we see the truth bust shield our souls away from its bitterness,
instead choosing to forget and twist reality in our own whimsical play thing,
but it doesn’t but work that way,
it cannot be that way,
for we are no god,
we are no all-powerful ruler of all and everything,
we are specks in a jar full of candies,
and when we’re dead,
there will be little to remember of who we truly were,
for we are scratchy line on the paper of life..
