Too many worlds have collapsed beneath its feet. Its fist always the decider, and always the final silencer. Each new day brings fresh blood, spilled upon mountains of decayed flesh and bones that have collected over the centuries. Yet, this was not its choice. This was not its decision. This was the doing and the plight of the smallest minded sentient creatures it has even known. Humanity sickens it sometimes, even as it intrigues it so. So, again and again, it has settled and repeated on the worlds whim, looking for new reasons to spare them.
Some call it god, some call it devil, but it is neither. It is alone, unseen and unheard in the eyes and ears of humanity. It is neither male or female nor son or daughter; it claims no identity as trivial as this. It knows what the truth is, the truth that these humans refuse to accept. The world is without reason. The world is random, and without cause. Even it cannot control the world, but only to occupy the cleansing alone. Yet, the humans place blame and praise on it without fail, and sadly, without the knowledge that they even do so. It now just wants to rest. It wants to let go of the chains tying it to this duty. It goes to slumber thinking this, and in dreams wishes it were true.
feeling like she’ll never be enough. The girl who constantly backs down afraid of standing her ground. Afraid, she’s afraid they’re gonna block her out. What changed her? When did this world break her?
She used to be the greatest a dream chaser. Now, she looks in the mirror, that girl she sees… she hates her! Watching from the sidelines everyone is beginning to replace her. Just getting by trying to scrape herself off the ground.
She tries speaking up she can’t make a sound. She feels like she’s sitting in the lost and found, just waiting for someone Who’ll come back around? Take her, change her, rearrange her save her.
This curse, it hurts. She’s lost all her self worth. She had put in so much work. Her efforts unrewarded. She’s stuck in a jail cell, it’s constant self torment. Who am I supposed to be today? she asks.
She’s been moving through life as if it’s all an act. But when the curtains drawn and it fades to black she’s forced to face the girl behind the mask.
Counting down the hours until tomorrow
trying to run from all the sorrows
I’ve come to know from this place
Counting down the minutes, staring at the ceiling
Getting this unsettling feeling
That I’m going insane
I refuse to be part of the machine
I refuse to fit their mold
I’m the part of this society that won’t believe all the lies they are told
And its making me crazy…
Counting down the minutes until I am gone
I never thought that this would come
Counting the seconds as I’m fading
I’m starting to succumb
I refuse to be their marionette
I refuse to play in their game
I’m the part of this society that they can’t manipulate
And it’s driving them crazy…