ghost.

If there was no truth except yours

And the faith you brazenly pretend to believe in,

Then I would rather be called liar, murderer, adulteress all my life.

You really call yourselves chosen?

Sadistic bastards.

Can I love you, but not the faith you have given them?

That they have distorted beyond seeing or believing?

I love you, but am so, so tired of human grotesqueity.

Angels in the sky look down with faces that you have seen in dreams.

What if you came home

And everything you believed in or stood for was gone?

Taken by the faithless and the damned

Everything you love, including yourself.

Can you hear what you are saying?

Do you know what you depress?

And do you know how completely, hopelessly lost you are?

You who dare not face your errors and lose to the expense

Whole lives, of them who have yet to live and dream and breathe and feel and think

Miserable cowards

Ass-for-brains

Fucking whores.

I dare you to defy me and what I stand for

All will come around

And in time to each will come what was given.

You who are lost, hurry home.

And then there was you who saw

Sanity in unsanity

Beauty in pain

Love in total abandon

Truth in twisted darkness.

I should be scared but I am not

Do you understand now that you are precious?

The blind see things the seeing cannot comprehend

And the deaf hear the music beyond dreams.