Crimes of a mind.

Monotony engulfs. Expectations that trample choice. A half finished article. The silent cry of a soul which does not exit. The future bright as ever, until the next day comes and it is monochromatic as always. Truth which is as invisible as air. Only death remains, but it is too far to care.

I wait and wait, until, I have to wait again.

This is not life. I scream in silent agony, but you are too busy in this "life" of yours.

Only death remains, and all my delusions dissolve.

I wait and wait, until, I don't have to anymore. If you can hear my plea, then hear it now, for it is already too late; my soul has gone.

"The world is here, in front of our eyes
Not where you dwell, in elaborate lies.

So where is Truth, if not here?

Ah! In minds of bodies that work and slave

for coin and paper that drives fear away.

It is there that it lies, in yours and mine.

All we need do is reach and find,

this truth that binds stone and soul

to a holier purpose, out there, distant in the future.

Until disappointment fills our minds and shows,

Truth is me, truth is you, truth is everything around me and you.

Truth is your mind, truth is your eye.

Which would you trust? It does not matter.

Truth is anything that you see fitting.

When our bodies rot and our minds no more

At last, truth is nothing,"