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letra de vigor mortis - replicator (of futurology)

[verse 1]
i take a deep breath, releasing the toxins
i’m feeling boxed in, this nonsense got no options
my heart’s been auctioned off to the highest bidder
i’m dying more inside, can’t push through the rigor
my future’s fading quicker than i ever imagined
supposed to be full of anger but i can’t feel the p-ssion
feel detachment from all of my actions
i’m absent and p-ssive, crashing from this fatal attraction
the only caption left, man in the bastion
up in the atmosphere and i can’t find the balance
attempted to be [?] in the face of this talentless malice
but i can’t manage the challenge
i’m but a tower of actions blown away by a zephyr
can’t center my actions, feel like i’m trapped in this endless endeavor
forever tethered to oppressors that i can’t even name
relay claim to the [?] to maintain that it’s all just a game to be played

(“see the fire is the future, and the presence is the flame”)

[verse 2]
but it’s snuffed me out without any doubt
and now i feel like stagnant water in the midst of a drought
i scream and shout
man, i need some grout for my brain
‘cause if these cracks are plastered over then my cranium i’ll be nothing but [?]
it’s insane, the disdain that i harbor for change is only matched by the pain of life staying the same
paradoxically complaining ’til the point in constraint
[?] no further than myself for someone to blame
take another breath, try to push it aside
internal dialogue like jekyll in contention with hyde
got sick of the pride, so now i’ve thrown it aside
left it to rot because my ego made my mood swing in and out of the tide
it was only a matter of time before it all lost its shine
so now it’s victimless crimes and sit and crafting these rhymes that give me the strength to grab hold and climb and blow apart the confines of this twisted design

(“see the fire is the future, and the presence is the flame”)

[verse 3]
i feel a sickness clawing holes in my soul
everything i own is borrowed and i’m growing so old, cold to core of my bones
so fed up being alone
sometimes impossible to distinguish myself from the clones
so many goals to postpone for reasons unknown
it’s time to overthrow this [?]
pick up the chromosomes, make peace and atone
got to continue to roam even if it feels like there’s no place to go
‘cause lately it feels like there ain’t much time left
but don’t get it twisted, that doesn’t mean i’m scared to death
i just don’t want to die for nothing so i count every breath
and try to say something with substance ‘fore i’m wiped from this earth

[verse 4]
everything’s so serious, i’ve forgotten how to smile
today i wandered for miles ‘cause i don’t want to go home
i scrawl these words across a torn page in a flurry of tears
try to explain away the hatred that i’ve harbored for years
i guess [?] all others
no matter how hard i try i just can’t see you all as sisters or brothers
i live in constant fear of alienation
so never truly speak my mind unless i’m with someone who’s patient
my mind’s [?], i drag my body with it
my eyes have seen too much already, [?]
i write this as i fall into my final resting place
[?]
the man with no face [?] eternal slumber
at pace towards the grave, rotten over enc-mbered
a time without a place, unconsciously awake
dream forever, at peace without a pace
seems over dramatic but it’s my true disposition
i feel at peace to admit that this is the mindset of living
and i don’t mean that i live in fear of some imminent death
these words appear as i traverse the turbulence of my head
i can never [?] actually thinking this
when i do and i grasp and it just dissipates into the mist
such a sickening twist, a hall of mirrors
i can’t keep scratching this itch, it never [?]
a battle of wits with no way to judge a winner
animalistic fits with no perceivable limit
stare into my eyes but can’t tell you who’s staring back
i’m desperately convinced that that thing is a mask…

- replicator of futurology

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