i feel the bond of control snapping

thousand pieces loose

puppet of the universe

are we already in hell?

the saneness slipping away

slippery shocking, ael like

there’s a black hole

eating all emotions

just feeling the burning flames

the death of my ancestors

burned, tortured, witch like

death creeps up my throat

saccharine flavor on my tongue

piercing headaches

jesus thorn crown

blood dripping slowly

on this burned earth

poisoned, sick and dead

earthquake shuttering

bones shattering

into thousand tiny bugs

crawling, creeping, slimy

there’s no way out

we will die painfully

our sins crushing us

tearing our flesh apart

brain ichor splashing on the ground

but how do you define sin?

naked body’s tangeled

cherry flavored lips kissing

or denying ourselves

he died for us

but do you want to rot in misery

following words spoken centuries ago?

your weak mind cannot be on its own

god is dead.

not because we have killed him

but because he never lived

hallucinated, written and preached

but his existence an illusion

words in a book of violence

created to control and abuse

putting humans into sticky cages

puppets moving on a string

ballerinas dancing in a box

brain dead undead

i am god of my own universe

my own puppet or ballerina

playing games against myself

what is illusion, what is truth?

there’s no truth, no enlightenment

maybe even no existence

floating in a sea of corpses

grabbing in the endless void

being bound with ropes

fate, faith or curse?