Reality sets into a heart that wishes to read you lies that sit like an open book.
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This must stay open, this must stay clear, this must be said for all to hear.
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These are living, breathing beings like us.
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Going, gone unaddressed, undeniable.
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These are living, breathing beings like us.
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They don't look the same on a plate.
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Are we still fixable?
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Drop the dish that could fill the mouth with meat.
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To the floor and I've watched it break.
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One thousand pieces of that glass equals one thousand days gone past.
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And how has technology brought us any further,
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when this society is still stuck in its primitive dietary ways?
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Only a death trap for both worlds, tomorrow can't be fixed.
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When today's crisis is aborted, stop looking ahead!
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Are we still fixable?
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-----------------
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Stoic
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| Cave-In |
