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[SIN]thetik

Ticking,
(inside)
pounding
(outside)
pulsing
(inside)
sounding
(outside)
Feeling
(inside)
Rusting
(outside)
Waiting
(inside)
busting
(out)

Ticking
These cold gears that make up my heart
These iron hands that produce my art
broken from the start of this mechanical Soul
It ticks and whirs Out of control
As this ocean of emotion ebbs and flows

Pounding
My mechanical response
To a human stimuli
the question I quest Isn't who but why
And I'd die to know why
We silently lie
To ourselves and others
Our brothers and mothers
these words we suffer
as We silently pray
for our sins to just be washed away
What if they weren't
what if they stuck
what if every time you struck out
they struck back
and what if every time you ******** up
you had to face the fact
that there might not be any turning back?

what if your creator had a creator of their own
and what if when you prayed there was nobody home?
and what if the only answer to your prayer
sat lazily in an lay-z boy chair
without a ******** care in the world.

Beg for forgiveness to no avail
your mechanical soul will burn in robotic hell.
For your savior hasn't hung
there's no clockwork cross.
But who really cares.
one less...
no loss...

end.