Traces emanate
Encoded within the core
Abandoned in pursuit of
Synthetic aspirations
A mind renewed
And set still
Receptive in shape
Archaic at will
Revised
It surrenders to no supreme icon
Freed from the confines of a censured regime
I vow to vanquish and bury you thy god
A rasterized image through machine
Is not my truth
My truth is love and suffering by its manifestation
Wake me up from the kingdoms that you enchant
With promises designed to evoke avarice
Infinite qualms of wishing that we're enough
Determining self worth by perceived affluence
What's my soul worth in cold hard cash mother fucker?
What's it worth in cold hard cash?
