The cosmos in a box
Inked in blood
The silence terrifies us.
We can't stand the sound of our own voices.
We are addicted to distracting ourselves
anything to keep our minds from becoming still.
What humanity truly fears is hidden in our insignificance.
Our pride won't save us from this discovery.
Where our minds end remains existence.
The blood of these questions will spill outside of our fortresses.
Desperation is the blade we use to kill, and we kill the silence
to pacify ourselves to the point of self-denial.
Terror comes when our egos reach their end
and we are faced with the problem of existence.
I won't believe that this is happening but there is no coincidence for me to rely on.
With the silence comes awareness - with the silence comes the fear.
Your heart of stone.
Give me my fix: for I can't stand the silence, the terror drives me mad,
for I won't face the questions, this problem of existence.
We can't stand the sound of our own voices.
We are addicted to distracting ourselves
anything to keep our minds from becoming still.
What humanity truly fears is hidden in our insignificance.
Our pride won't save us from this discovery.
Where our minds end remains existence.
The blood of these questions will spill outside of our fortresses.
Desperation is the blade we use to kill, and we kill the silence
to pacify ourselves to the point of self-denial.
Terror comes when our egos reach their end
and we are faced with the problem of existence.
I won't believe that this is happening but there is no coincidence for me to rely on.
With the silence comes awareness - with the silence comes the fear.
Your heart of stone.
Give me my fix: for I can't stand the silence, the terror drives me mad,
for I won't face the questions, this problem of existence.
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