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


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