The Labyrinth Of Lies Poem by ness tillson

The labyrinth of lies is made of matter,
Time and space cause and effect,
Rhyme and reason make another day,
Hate and love as they take me away.

The walls are our prison our tomb stone written,
In blood and guts no meaning nor rhythm.
Confusion, absurd confusion to freeze our minds and explode our souls,
Take us back to unformed matter,
Send us out into the rain with our begging bowls.

Why am I here, why are they laughing at me?
Why is the prison getting smaller day by day?
The walls closing in on the way.
The path gets narrower twists and turns,
My mind gets smaller my soul in hell burns.

Comes back tomorrow to the same place as today,
Just shorter more empty a more meaningless array.
Of endless confusion infinite chains of cause and effect,
The chicken and egg on who do you place your bet?

Who will be eaten first who will be cooked,
Who will have his name crossed from the book.
The book of the absurd, the book of lies,
The one you gave me for that Christmas in the skies.

That Christmas we spent so happy together,
Before you left me forever and ever.
Before the book we hate and we love,
Was burnt cast away, when we killed the white dove.

The dove of peace they say and proclaim,
The white dove that is dying, the end of the game.
The dove we have eaten on that Christmas day,
The day of your death, the day you flew away.

A hole in your heart, all stained in red,
A hole in my soul empty and dead.

If only the dove can be free,
The dove we shot a bullet in my knee.
The dove we killed and plucked away,
Till nothing was left but blood on your sheet.
Blood on our hands and hate in our hearts,
To replace the love that we once thought real,
To fill the cup with this rotten deal.

The labyrinth of lies is hot and cold,
Up and down all around,
Goes on forever and ever and a day,
Just before they take me away.