It's an everlasting construct

The constant lust for something unattainable

We compare ourselves to structures

Built from the projects of our neural architects

A thick and nettled river travels throughout

Our soul and surges into our mind's eye

Building temporary soldiers

Of hungry ghosts who are feeding on the blind

Thoughts control the sun

Water shifting surfaces masking it as progression

All the while, and addiction is built to the refracted light

Forever comparing ourselves to those in bloom

Only when we accept nature's pattern of growth

Will we be free of the relative vice

Toxic dissatisfaction

Poison-dripping forward motion

Currents pull all directions whispers in the dark

Welcome the process

Bury me in my belt clad in white

One seed bears but one root

(One seed bears but one root:

The root grows as it always has)

Dogma unforgotten

Progress has just one constant

While we're blind without the light

We feed in the darkness to satisfaction

The ever-glow of the setting sun is fucking raw

It may still be rising

Gone is the lie that we put onto ourselves, in a brand of growing credence we can follow where the currents go

Bury me in my belt clad in white