Those who believe they are the kings of perfection
Fail to succeed in the times of regression
Small souls dwell in the darkness for protection
Little do they they know they are the worlds golden collection

Deception to the eyes that see so perfectly
A blind mans sight is the feeling of raw senses so superbly
Who even without eyes could sculpt a world so boldly.
Creating every aspect of man unbiasedly

Here what holds more true than a promise of a man
Is the bare blood shed on dirt for a cause only he understands
The weakest of all ,frailty means nothing with a heart so grand
For it could walk a million miles strong with pain if his heart could stand

Shielded minds blind the soul
For what truth lies beyond a grassy knoll
The fire that burns even the innocent bodies is what it beholds
The troubles that are buried so deep in a man no other may console
But the faith in higher power for salvation can never grow old

Amongst a place so unfamiliar in our darkest pits we seek light
Here in darkness, only the small, weak, and incompetent see right
Who can truly find themselves in the mist of the night?
Those who can look at perfection lounged in gas, with they light the seek, chose to ignite.