Though these words speak of a joyous song,
Of angelic harmony they may seem,
To powers unforeseen by human eyes.
No matter the occasion that we may live,
Our lives are of a truth not yet known.
Captain to our lives we maybe,
Ever walking with a mask of lies,
Shell of a human we exist evermore,
To the lies of an admirals breath.
A fools errand guides our discourse,
So that our blame is on others and not thyself
Knowledge only to those who control.
Only half truths we may know,
Though the only constant is disparity
Quite our voices are of the already known.
Of futures will never see truth.
Of a 100 years lie of man
All of humanity gathers in its own ignorance
As a pig wallows in its own filth.
Those who speak of an ever growing tower of lies
Speak only of the unseen words