Begone, o textured depiction of life
This shall be my name for all time
Forgotten and bitten with filth
Lord tyrant... deceiver of man

Coldness shall be my perception
Ridden with the false decay of life
Ignorance shall be my virtue
Solitude among the reality deprived

And so... shall this all be forgotten
Like myself in epochs gone by
Lost to an age of oblivious string vibrations
Abandoned to my own seclusion

Life means nothing without a perception
Even one as false as now
This is all an illusion to reward gratitude
To a primitive reality
An intellect not priveliged with certainty
An existence not destined for evolution

An empty illusion to create a purpose for nothing
We are a reason to observe the universe for only its pride
We are nothing, decay to the void
As it cares not for your fate

I know this to be true
As I care nothing of myself
For I am the only reality