What Overseer

When in one's mind but not your own,
is it callas to footstep upon the unknown?

It can break and separate like the dignities of space,
it bears no form of difference,
what's to anticipate

is there any real deception in what you cannot understand,
Or is the mind of another
more dangerous than the hand,

who's that overseer who dictates what is safe,
what if it's the motive of life
to dissipate the human race?

He saw it in hiding and journals that scream,
the human race isn't complying
with that much modernised feeling.

How can it be ruled that one's far from sane
when idiocy's such a fluidity
that acts to separate us from fame?

Oh hand down the morals and quarrels and thought,
when your minds dead and your nails are still growing,
make way for the onslaught;

He can, she can, one can still see,
far be it to deviate from the truth,
of which repents to escape me.

"Taking down physical and mental opponency,
you don't decide what's appropriate" said she.

"you haven't the mind, nor the allegory to choose,
whether its the fault of the abuser or abused".