• A pendant filled with stardust,
    A hand holding bits of earth,
    Orbs glowing with living lust,
    Eyes seeing all the girth,

    Traveling in a patternized formation,
    Keeping track of all the details,
    A deep and painful throat sensation,
    What exactly does that entail?

    They ******** themselves over and sometimes literally, too,
    Their digits taking them to what their orbs desire,
    Their minds sinking into the quicksand of something frightening, something new,
    It seers down their spines like fire.

    Children crying and they don't know what for,
    Oppressed and unsure of the cause,
    It's not as though they can rank the score-
    Of the scratches on their backs resulting from monster's claws.

    Sex and death and little unspoken thoughts,
    Twisted and deranged in our culture's eyes,
    'Remember that it's wrong to fight the authority you sought-
    To give them a piece of all your little minds.'

    Anarchy, Socialism, what is right and what is wrong?
    There is no word in our language that answers such a question,
    The curious ones try to find it through song,
    Others try through mere obsession.

    Perspective is what keeps us trying,
    It's what rations our individuality,
    Whether it's dreaming of research or flying,
    Atheism or spirituality.