Nothing is free and Nothingness, freedom, The Truth allowed a lie, but nothing is true and all’s permitted, Take your treasures back from the sky!
Ye hopeful in faith and reverent the wraith, sold the kingdom of gold, Virginia she waits, the Siren of gates, if only you’ll do what you’re told.
But why do I hurt you? Why the confusion? On what are you already spent? Heavy the weight of the hollowed cross, yet still the call; Repent!
So save your dime, invest your myrrh in sensuous earthly pleasure, the coin minted here, tarnished and queer, but Oh! the view, the weather!
Perhaps an authentic trifle, a butt of masters rifle, consume your fate the hour is late, deceitfulness delightful.
Founded in filth, meaning through pain, or pious ascension and rules in vain, long healed scars greedily picked, blood from the wound eternally licked.
If nothing is true, and all permitted, a coat of grey, a crime committed
The shaky steeple, befallen people, the narrative collapse, but will the man, the sheep, the clan stare the Shepherd staff?
Perhaps.