A Word From the Youth

My taste in music is empty
and the bells I hear  
are coming for my head
they're screaming now
crawling in my bed
crawling in my head-
 
they're after my fucking head  
 
Stone statues on marble floors
faces shattered, fractured
nothing left of the sacred rows
the prayers, the crows circle
pillars are cracked
and the cracks are filled
with widows eggs
the pillars are cracked
like my empty, dried veins  
the pillars are cracked
am I going insane?
 
I'm stuck, fucked
the incindiery bombs
shell shocked, guns cocked
and I'm locked away
inside my head
staying alive and regretting  
being alive in a fucked generation
late stage capitalism
inflation making it hard to afford
the very air i breathe into my lungs
 
I'm so fucked, we're so fucked
tying my tubes to ensure
my offspring aren't a thought
so my offspring don't suffer
in the way we suffer now
 
I'm so fucked, we're so fucked
brothers, sisters, haters, lovers
I understand now-
I understand why we stopped
giving a fuck
 
My taste of style is classless
tasteless, nihilistic,
depressed
and the hell I live
is a god forsaken mess
 
Where are my architects,
the techinicians who built my bones?  
If you wield my blueprint
weep with me when we realize
the numbers were wrong-
they've been wrong
this whole time
 
It seems there was a time
our gods stopped giving a fuck too
and we are the product
of blatant abandonment
forgotten behind the temple pews