As I wander through the hollows of my mind
searching for the truths I long to find,
I hear the echoes of the music of the soul,
feel the red-hot glow of pain,
and my thoughts chorus a deadly refrain:
"Confusion is the root of life".
In my aching heart I know,
there must be stone beneath the snow,
and life in a drop of red blood.
I know the stone is but a simple cage,
designed to hold the pain and rage,
of a teenager buried in a world of
superficiality and undying faith
that exists not in God but in the hand of a wraith,
who shouts the ancient curse:
"Confusion is the root of life".
In a society that exists on a knife,
where parents correct their own wrongs
by keeping their children safe from prying eyes
by hardening their emotions in a coat of lies,
and by telling them always, always
that all they'll ever know is strife,
and that confusion is the root of life.
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