Pity Surface
A dreamer’s eyes peer into the open sky
The tears dripped from the eyes are a lie
Nothing blooms in a garden built for attainment
The dreamer’s falsehood is his own entertainment
O, Call upon the mind for the surface
Call to your peachy tongue for the place
The place of expectations
Where the real feelings await mutilation
The attention is left to decay as it stales for this
The realization is left unwanted when desperation is ‘bliss’
Pity is a fruit; it waits the plucking from you
Drain the juice and you’re lucky that it becomes you
A need is greed; it thrives in the home of the vice
A cold awakening to falseness is a price
O, sing to me that falseness is not a sin
That it is a bankrupt corruption from within
Let a lie tattoo a vision in your heart of ‘real’ emotion
A pain, not slain, is your wanted function
Now plunge into my sea of reality
Neglect your false self and realize real calamity
Or love your fake emotions with a fake kiss
These are your blind eyes, your pity surface
Lex
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