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Down below, beings with masks
Enslaved kings, immoral souls
Those who embraced the false
In the darkness their voices repeat

The same, soothing prayer
Which dragged them into damnation

The prayers live as a drug
Which creates illusions
Spreading the pestilence
In the inner core

Summoning the hope
With spineless faith
In their eyes they can only see
A bare reflection of vanity

The mirror of past
Standing there broken
No God, creation nor human
Can see through its pieces
Stubborn human race
With the weakest will created

And so history repeats itself
Still humans depend on words

The truth is not to be accepted
Nor is it to be avoided
Some live in denial
Some in chosen delusion
There are beings wise enough
To be aware of the deceit

-Isth