Living in the daze that everything is broken and falling apart.
Crying for your soul to bring purpose.
Destined for your own inmortality.
Can't you see the beast you've created?
Can't you realize what you've become?
You've taken everything from life and become what no one could have ever imagined.

You are a monster.

They look at you and try to help.
You see what they do and steal there souls.
You lace the world with the thread of murder.
And all this while you cannot see what you're doing.

The colours you produce are heaven in itself, but satan himself was an angel.
You will be cast down.
The streak that's in your purpse is larger than your heart.

You cannot remember the meaning of art, but you know you killed the artist.
We all must die at times to see the meaning of life.
But you know what you've done has run thin and your course will end.

You know what the fickle thing is?
You bring yourself treasures of pain and loss every second you continue to breathe.
You will bring yourself to justice.
It is only a matter of time.