The Red Crown
What can be offered to the Lost?
A tiny piece of Divinity?
But what - just to watch Them bring it to its knees?
To lose it without ever knowing what power it may possess?
Yes, kill it quickly -
Let it fall to the moment of Crisis
When what one has not chosen but accepts as their existance
Begins to show its scars
And the plans and the dreams of the Ideal Life
Have crumbled away.
Fall deeply into the Mundane -
Don't let the screaming that riots within have a voice -
Instead drown it in satisfying ridiculous lust -
Sudden desires that well up which tell one
That they must give in
Or life will end without meaning.
But these desires are second-hand - tired - designed...
A culture of repression with no imagination
Looks to Destruction
To feel alive.
The world will end...
They Say.
so why not watch it burn?
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
