Drowning in Ether
What beliefs do I have that could pass as sublime?
Not a one, for they are part and parcel with the lifestyle I keep.
If there be some chattel to absolve my crime...
I'd be the first in line,
Drop any pills I could find,
Leave my past and my future behind.
But once purpose, defeated, was crippled and blind,
I'd be back where I started, having opinions and making oaths in my sleep.
Little known is the fact that reality is irony,
and no one escapes its claws.
A good deed kills ten innocent men while a bad one saves a baby.
The docket reads "innocent", "guilty," but really means "maybe."
Nowhere is this not the case, but someplaces less than others,
here it's a bit of a law.
But what does that matter?
I, in my subterranean castle, my cleverly disguised white-collar,
I can bathe in cathode rays for days on end,
Pound my brain with chemicals, origin not relevant,
Wake and dream with no real purpose for one or the other, specifically,
and what I am the worse for?
But there, I've already admitted it!
Another crossroads where my sublime-less and my consciousness collide.
I would digress with the speed of light, but my path is too easily traced.
It moves backwards, not forwards, anyways, for my problems, not yet faced,
Are not anchors, but demons, crawling back to the womb,
to make an idiot of me, to devolve me into nothingness.
Not a one, for they are part and parcel with the lifestyle I keep.
If there be some chattel to absolve my crime...
I'd be the first in line,
Drop any pills I could find,
Leave my past and my future behind.
But once purpose, defeated, was crippled and blind,
I'd be back where I started, having opinions and making oaths in my sleep.
Little known is the fact that reality is irony,
and no one escapes its claws.
A good deed kills ten innocent men while a bad one saves a baby.
The docket reads "innocent", "guilty," but really means "maybe."
Nowhere is this not the case, but someplaces less than others,
here it's a bit of a law.
But what does that matter?
I, in my subterranean castle, my cleverly disguised white-collar,
I can bathe in cathode rays for days on end,
Pound my brain with chemicals, origin not relevant,
Wake and dream with no real purpose for one or the other, specifically,
and what I am the worse for?
But there, I've already admitted it!
Another crossroads where my sublime-less and my consciousness collide.
I would digress with the speed of light, but my path is too easily traced.
It moves backwards, not forwards, anyways, for my problems, not yet faced,
Are not anchors, but demons, crawling back to the womb,
to make an idiot of me, to devolve me into nothingness.