Disease
I'm god fearing this can't be done
Brittle knives wrought with youthful scorn
No objective truth, no sense, or central meaning
Fighting an urge to give in to fleeting
This absurdist thought has become a tell
I'm only fearing Devotion
Hope for the disease to heal itself
Transfixed upon a smaller hell
Devoid, vacant, over, taken
Reaching for a light that isn't shining down
The value of time only seems to increase
Face in the grass pecking at the seeds
Reckless abandon on a yearning jaunt
Idealized self crumbling from its thoughts
I'm only fearing Devotion
Hope for the disease to heal itself
Transfixed upon a smaller hell
Devoid, vacant, over, taken
Reaching for a light that isn't shining down