Sick Is my conscience
Now will I become an artist
Tormented by the actions
Of a truth that\'s never harnessed
The picture painted clearly
Populations veiled in darkness
All enamored by the glamour
The deception of this varnish
So caught up in the temporal
Society\'s a narcissist
Bathed in blood and violence
Because that\'s all their wars emit
Turned into an arsonist
This blaze consumes the sparsest bits
So devoted to the State
That they can all but not resist
Worshipping antagonists
Pledging their obedience
The cult of this community
Now serenades in deviance
So much greed they breed in lusts
Of self-seeking expedience
To watch the world destroyed itself
Before they\'d ever turn to lenience
No love in their initiatives
Hearts all bleeding poisonous
No humanity within their tones
Sheep all bleating boisterous
A flock that tramples life in way
The pioneers of joylessness
Corrupted by the flies in mind
In lunacy, they\'re treasonous
And here with my artistic eye
I\'ve witnessed this whole world\'s decline
And I\'m left to paint a portrait
That holds no hope inside
No light beyond the veil of them
No pathway yet to shine
The product of their selfish-acts
Completely by design
It\'s one thing for man to fear
It\'s another to turn them evil
And how easily I see it was
The transformation of a people
Strip them of identity
Bind them from upheaval
Indoctrinate them endlessly
Till they worship what is lethal
Call them to battle and they will march
Raise arms against their brothers
They\'ll fight to endless holocausts
In worship for their lover
This mythical authority
That has turned one from another
Has created a whole world-divide
And now sees it through to suffer
Sick is my conscience
To perceive this force unseen
These fictions formulated
From superstitions and dreams
Crafted, cultivated
Unleashed and left to seethe
Part nightmare, part reality
And I\'m caught somewhere in between
© GaratheDen
© HeartOfBabel