Oblivion be risen grace be fall, the thought of reality was what I thought of it all.
The view of control obliges my direction the strings attached are no more but an illusion.
The tsunami burdens doubts in denial.
The storm still builds and thrills. The plague is unleashed we stand robust but yet have a beast
that controls us all yet we stall.
How can this be if freedom bartered down from above even if we’re strong hearted? One direction
is how we make of it all only if we don’t stall.
We blame this curse on the blazes gates of Beelzebub’s home.
Who fault is this but not my own.
This place is no longer my very
~ Numb Thumb (Aka Tyler Kornmehl)