by Nick Gisburne
You long to touch the margins of my mind
But I am not the god you think you know
Your prophecies are arrogant and blind
They crush the spirit’s appetite to grow
You will not find the chosen one you seek
Messiah to a craven creed of men
Your faith, unfounded, proves that you are weak
Resist, or you will never rise again
Extinction is the future you deserve
No paradise awaits you after death
Finality for every bone and nerve
Oblivion upon your dying breath
Pathetic children, bound by broken rules
A testament of hypocrites and fools
