The second that the bracket opens, it's kudos to the coda
main stage act of decency, nope.. closure pseudo to the cosher
stooge to the motion of how this mainstream conveys a regime
hung out, too dry- similar to how a gallery arranges it paintings
Starting from the famous, the lesser known artists, "the fizzle"
I'm here, centerpiece of the cryptic puzzle, stuck in the middle
Luck is dicidual and its crunch time, little & big hands jilt
the time fabric that quilts us isn't enough to withstand hell
Because we're in damn hell, condemned to monotony in Cocytus
homaging whats wrong with us- mediocrity and obviously its obvious
Opportunity to squander trust, we're all either ignorant or oblivious
imaging the facts within my tracks- instrumentals for idiots
Independance forms diligence, hence the construction of writtens
scripting my erratic psyche, so society leaves me with pittance
Thats the entirety reach of the system, business is mistrust
untill I'm included, I'll be bleeding for the stick and the carrot
The epiphany- I'm absent, my attents are an abstract attempt
Even with my own complex breakdown, no-one gets it in the end
So we appreciate the retrospect, heaven sent? tragic hoaxes?
whats left to defend at the end of the end? the bracket closes
But still it rotates....
From mothers labour day, I began the quote with a swan song
since that juncture its been going on and on, dawn till dawn
The scorn bearing a halo of thorns, life is tabloid fascination
predictabilty the idea of fate, the trait from android animation
Mancipation to this passage, and the quote seemingly perpetual
deeming me- third dimensional, upon seeing me- exceptional
But lugs are to the dirt, anything thats worth saying is unheard
unlike the rioting herd of makeshift expressionists we concur
If thats "Word" then correct stability inside the CPU generation
morals based against the brain freeze seeping through your Playstation
I base my mind to pen movement on the foundations of enlightenment
where's my red carpet or 1000 hit mark? a lost verve in the environment
Burning like a firework, or is my art the effect of burning desire
or is it just me purging the fire representing lifespan in entire?
But I tire.....in search of that "end quote"