The light is harsh in darkened rooms; caverns of the mind
Distilled and absolute, dissolving through the blinds
Tripled the dose too many times, too many times to see
That truth can seem as close to lies, as death to being free
Beyond the point of absolving sins we took for games
Shrouded now in desecration, living in the flames
Were we too foolish, us: the broken, to hear the message sent
Or was it that we cared too little, ever to repent
With modesty that failed to free us, such as the arms of fate
Boiled down to our most vulnerable, concentrated state
Woe is we, who sow the seeds with not the means to reap
When we cast aside our inhibitions and inter ourselves to sleep
It's there the door to nirvana's nestled, netted in our dreams.
Like every ray of raging light racing through the screen.