Worlds Molded by Labyrinths of Thoughts Lyrics

This dessicated compost of creations
scaffolds of flesh, shells of receptors and delusional emotions
reflecting a puzzle of bepuzzled intelligent design, is this the ulterior evolvement?`

Perfection in existence is an immediate accusation of imperfection
for asa a vast minoruty it poses as an outcast and therefore becomes
forces to exile as a pariah.
Man is not a god, for it derives the very meaning of the word.

To find potential and bring it to zenith one must search outside this terestrial limitation
skin it, incarcerate it and let the dust be swept away with all the four winds.

Feats upon the ripe and stillborn self and unify with Shinigama
honour not thy gods by spoken manmade names and devotion
overcome and adopt their powers.

A wormhole with scattered debris consisting by an unison of aching illusions
securing and pinning the manipulation of thoughts unto a bleak, rusty caleidoscope
languidly seeping through the cracks of the psyches egregious facets
channeled through the annexations of irregular theta waves.

Inoculating a temporar post-life neuroplasticity, incorporating a sanctimonious
stimuli of a personal Scheol.

Through the folds of dreams into flesh and the organs of daymares fell as ashes from heavens ousting
fountains of lungs.
My internal, energetic nucleus of apperceptions screens mobile alternations of realities.
unravelling the entities that lived off me through the figment of imaginations.
Duplicating aphorism of phantasmagorias and phobias, a morphogenesis in completion,
to glare upon the face of madness and realize that it's ones own reflection.
At last I am home, I bid you welcome to my worlds!