Braden's Poetry

If you could feel the vibrations of a thousand dead
Then you wouldn't care about what your conscious said
You'll drown in a river of rejection and self pity
And get cast around like a piece of debris in the city

Bring an offering to your God and prey
As your physical self continues to decay
Take your head to the priest in sable
Break your bread on the hypocracy table

It was once written that a man is blind
You lost your vision after being left behind
Now you are a sphere in the universe of flames
Trapped and deranged, playing childish games

Years ago, you would have gave up easily
Instead, you do everything to please the
A God you can't see, hear, touch, or smell
A moral code system built on morals that failed

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