The Shadows of My Dissent

All of my twenty one grams guide these weary, blackened hands And salvation's corpse these hands will exhume Alas, homo sum Unbound, of meaning absent As mere son of Atlas 'midst endless galaxies With chaos and fury sweetening the absinth Of logos, baptized in seas of deceased deities I laid to rest all facades Sung a requiem for the gods Cut adrift from old moorings Crowning kinsmen over kings Each stroke of this pen aspires To cypher the fall of crumbling empires Of credence and creeds as a mire Of choirs of naïves hailing reason's pyre Behold this testament This contemptuous lament of moral attrition The moment one screams to the deaf Who, in fear of death Devoted their lives to contradiction All of my twenty one grams guide these weary, blackened hands And salvation's corpse these hands will exhume Alas, homo sum Rise above the smoke and mirrors Of nooses woven with feudalist strings Only wisdom, benevolence and valor Are worthy of worshipping Rise above Beyond the Sun All of my twenty one grams, as Tantalus, ever damned To wade in aphorisms Or drown in nihilism