Self-taught Monotony

Can you imagine breathing again,

Under the stars of mothers gaze,

Ripe for the slaughter of a PC culture,

Trapped beneath my mortal lust,

Nearing the end of an era,

Ever closer to the dying light,

Yet I still bargain with my impulsive brain,

Leave them behind, you'll start again,

Over the bridge and far away to the lodge in the forrest,

Vinyls play on the rainy days, which are most,

Eden, a garden of fresh starts and the failures of man,

Die for greed and pride, you all mean nothing.

I hope you remember,

Take it all,

I pray for another sentient life to bring clarity,

I'll cry again.