Poison

Kind of funny how we are all given a story    
Some of them rewarding, others just boring  
Almost like a script and rehearsal    
Rolled up and handed to you with no referral    
No ending in site but praying to god that he’s an excellent play write    
If I’ve learned any lessons while playing this role, is that there’s a lot of tolls    
Followed by holes then offers of growth  
A never ending cycle of karma and blood bath    
All disguised in moments where time is frozen    
But in this story blood is nothing but poison    
Love is but timing for the chosen  
That’s why we have side characters and substance in the meantime    
Nicotine highs and someone for the night usually clears it up for awhile    
As we wait with anxious denial for returns from our trials    
But the deeper meanings are where we run in to holes in the plot  
Caused by shadows of the definite that allow us to choose divinity or rot    
A selective learning for cosmic realms of our brain  
The high priestess in temperate waters drowning out the fourth wall with rain    
Away with the fairies, hidden in the Astral plane  
The place I go to heal from the real world and it’s pain    
Bringing back to you muddled visions from a better place  
Sinking in to our seats releasing toxins and rage  
Hoping that our purpose isn’t just an ink stain at the end of the page  
Whilst watching this never ending production, awaiting our starring role    
And so we end here where it seems the authors pencil has gone dull