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