God is dead!
Everything freezes
Everything is already cold
Tired of burning
Sick to death of passions restrained
Acting out, leaving scars, in praise of denial
Shunning life, making life, in praise of the vile
Worshiping, suffering, drinking the blood of pain
Devoted to idolatry, one God with infinite infected brains
There is something of memory
There is something of choice
We've been left with the remnants
Shadows of a shadow's voice
The rewards of worship never seen while worshiping
God is dead!
The infinite congeals
Consciousness is already stagnant
Faint with love
Nervous demands to understand
Rebelling against rebellion, while forcing a smile
Hating life, creating life, making life worthwhile
Bended knee, suffering, eating the flesh of bane
Forcing out, through exhaustion,
Belief in the self and his reign
We've been left with salvation
Umbrage of our feigned rejoice
The rewards of worship never seen while worshiping
Unless they are seen by the dead eyes of a mouthpiece
The bread being promised has turned to mold
All promises from the sick gods, the meek, and the old
There is cold, especially in the mountains
Where calculated movements take aeons to affect
Smaller consequences to larger appetites
No gods, just the will to dissect
The meaninglessness of life.
