The Hand That Feeds
The hand that feeds,
Reveal whom you despise;
The hand that yields,
Conceal what you desire.
Abide your laws
With burning passion I must,
So control and withhold
My innocent lust.
For life, for death, for everything free
That I do not deserve, and left with empty glee.
Seek newer fiends, soulless and dead,
To upraise your army of steel and lead;
Rebuild and show the perfect toy,
Drawn with ugly glory and morbid joy
Of twisting and churning a man's life,
None remember their stories, as you push down your knife
In the throats of children, butcher their dreams.
Pain in your neck? That's how it feels,
That's what they mean,
That's what it takes
To seethe with power, to rule the silent mass
To feel like God, to be a violent Giant,
To freely go through every closed door,
To fix and wipe the unwanted narrative,
To live, and be human no more.
