Apologetically insecure illusion
masked with uncertainty by default
In an ongoing subsidiary environment
made by the weak
to insult the ones who value nothing
We exist to logistically manifest and harvest
what is perceived as profit
devised into groups of eleven Demons
ten Gods
Created by stardust
originating from one massive event
before light and time could exist
My major is philosophically indifferent
my beliefs are mine alone
to challenge is to create art
and to find oneself
Caged in an illusion of faith
we create war
murdering each other
devoured by our mothers hearts
still no one wins
We've come to exist
to manifest in its art
portraying kindness in solitude
lorh
