The broken mirror of memories
reflects the structures in my mind.
Those patterns of thoughts,
the sculptures of the past.
The former of personalities
is too hard for me to find
Genetic jokes
the decider of the cast.
What drives me to this?
What drives me to that?
I want to create my own fate.
What drives me to this?
What drives me to that?
It drives me insane.
In the rotten landscape of fantasies
I hoped for free will of some kind,
but it shattered like glass.
I woke up too fast.
For nature’s dynamic harmonies
mankind happens to be blind.
This clinical joy,
our instinct to destroy.
We have no hope, can’t see the light
the prophecies of yesterday were right.
This is the night for puppets to fight.
The uselessnes of conspiracies
show so clearly that we’re blind
Internal conflicts
deconstruct our souls.
What drives me to this?
What drives me to that?
Oh, please explain!