The Empty People

Forget the chains that bound us, the high’s become normal.

And as we itch for that old feeling of liberation our vision gets blurred and our hearts

turn black, because we can’t turn back the clock, it’ll never feel like that first time, so we

fill the void with the only thing left, revelry and tyranny.

And the revolutionary becomes the Sadist as the high slips further and further away.

Published by

Robert Andrews

I write what I want. Which might be a bad idea. Nonetheless...

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