Oh what a tortured road we tread
when first we realize we’ve been lead
like cattle to a dried out well
with nothing but despair to tell.
Ah but the wonder of the lies
that lead us to this treacherous guise
convincing us we’re bright and strong
when everywhere the signs, are wrong.
Lo and behold the skies turn cold
the sun shrinks back, the world turns old.
Our souls search for the sanctity
of accustomed prosperity.
Limbs entrapped as we squirm and writhe…
only the treacherous survive.