Appearance Becomes our Reality

Through the lies of appearance we confuse,
until it becomes our reality;
the dance of death induces
an hypnotic realization:
the flower of truth dies
as we sleep through
the shadows of power
and greed.
If they could see beyond their needs,
the darkness surrounding them would dissipate,
their path has pushed pain
against the gate of consciousness.
Who am I to cast a spell
against those who
live the spines of guilt? Nobody, it is me,
another face of reality,
awake or asleep,
we are all united
by existence.