False vectors and dead trees
Hollow words to a soul like me
Give me a taste of confusing stew
To know I'm just as befuddled as you
Fruits of knowledge are never eaten
Souls are battered and badly beaten
Aquarian vessels are dead in the water
Hear them bleat the lambs to the slaughter
Poetry as simple whimper or whine
Another cry to a deaf ear divine
I know no more than them or you
Except to hold that nothing is true
Quoting: BxMac Playing games with my words
And splitting their hairs into thirds
One for each miscalculation
Obvious in its mental addiction
Being of an aimless lot
I've freed myself of being caught
And wisdom may just trickle down
But I've beheld the lighted crown
Hisses come from snaking tongues
Empty words that carve along
The clay discarded by the vessel
Sloughed itself from every level
