Physicians paid and made to feign a friend,
Not even the trained confirming where it stemmed,
Fools with tools turning inner demons to men,
Always a chance to lose your mind at the end.
A monochrome mind and its forgotten hues,
Now manufactured on mass and deemed safe to use,
We chase after the synthesis of the two,
Pumping our hearts through with shades of blue.
Embody purposeless flesh to disrupt,
Burning with passion or iodine in the cuts?
Iodine tinted eyes left them burnt and corrupt,
Butterflies cannibalize right through the guts.
Subtle salves smother these sparse shallow wounds,
All ailments and cures reflect the reviews,
Now you're higher and wired on all you consume,
Prescriptions are laced decorating our tombs.