Many DENs

Denial
insidious sparkles of detrimental moments of trial
we arrange the rearrange of our laments
to find ourselves complacents
like the dead petal from a dirt rose
like a petal that finds peace in a concrete
dead like these beauty lines, dead like these irrational rhymes
No denial
give me one more dose
of the oldest tears that I commited to hide and fail to keep
this singular promise that I promise that won’t found a purpose
isn’t so pretty like that rose
but it’s all that I have to give and you just spit in it
spit, stomp, rip, give, chop, slain, scream!
This is the oddity of the beauty
lines that don’t give a chance to breath
like this hands around my neck
it’s me or it’s your hands? What’s gonna be?
Suicide or homicide?
Deny, Deny, and begin to cry
looks like the rose finally will find
something rotten to fed her post life

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Eden

Where has it come from?
muted screams and vapor tears
we need to kill
all the feelings that they use to fear
to frighten us
they set the direction,they point a finger
with a head down we march to our anihilation, thus
easy to find pain and misery, easy to lick the ground and feel epiphany
this is the lines that describes our morality
living inside a dead whore that it’s working for
pay all the sins that she commited against her will
like in a horror movie we shut one eye but still
watching everything like the perfect alibi
without questioning “why”
Why we still pretending that innocence still alive
we kill it at Eden Garden
burden, fallen, wander, broken
this is the karma that we chosen

Guts full of you

I can feel it from my guts
you shaking my nerves
make my day by staying away
.
The poison from your lips
the bullshit that you give
take this shit out of here
.
Sick of your shit
sick of your need to be
the queen of hipocrasy
.
Lies, a spider web made of lies
Lies, you can’t deny
your sick plague full of misery
.
Sick of your shit
sick of your need to be
the queen of hipocrasy
.

Dance with…

We dance, yes we dance
a ode to our misery
we give the crown to a false king
we pray for a death of our queen
anarchy, lonely anarchy
sing with me, about this moment that we live
“a paradise full of empty things
a warmful hug that we can’t feel, can’t you see?”
all this lines isn’t about me
this lines set perfectly
to your own catharsis

Mean

Doesn’t matter
the colour of your skin
our eyes are committed
all we see is sin, all we see is sin
even if we try our best, being better
it’s another sin that we commit
we be embraced
by the luxury, the certain of corruption
addicted in a kind of perfection
that’s so clean, also, so mean

Preach

Life is a balance
a constant test of endurance
resist to find a peace
resilience to find other place
where pain and misery can’t reach,
or the weak and poor preach
from the ones that must talk about love
but only have hate on their tongues
they took the right for wrong
looks like the psalms was wrote with the wrong words
so hard to understand, ever worse
to make sense in this modern times
If you ask me why
I look so tired of these lines
about hipocrites that think
that God it’s only to them
believe me, you understood these rhymes