O R T H O D O X I E S
flattery in composite. bohemian identikits.
choose a skin, it don't matter which. I'm a scarecrow.
the horrors of reduction. emoticon affection.
the dreariest perfection of a makeshift lie.
My moments of clarity are brief interludes of insanity
The nearest you get to 'truth' is spending a day at the zoo
Scientists like clergy, the worship of technology
leads us not to reality but to blindness.
all we have are categories, the blackest of alleyways,
some idiotic alchemy we mistake for sight
Our legacy will just be dust and this indifferent world will not recall us
Yet some undiminished faith will follow us all to the grave
a vagabond on a windswept road
I sleep on the doorstep of an illusory home
And others walk by, slaves to their eyes
We are error and fault. We're a compromise
Everything that I have been is a latent form of lunacy
But once again, I'm drowsy. I'll go back to sleep.
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