fauxcroft

Sanity in a poison pill

Power over a test of wills

Life is a set of photographic stills

Decadance is the domesticated drill

We feel like fodder of the factory mill

Takes over the spirit and then it’s killed

Sanity in a poison pill

Power over a test of wills

You lose reality in life’s pig swill

Of effluence until you’ve had your fill

Then you finally feel the chill

Of being outside and no longer feeling real

Lost from reality in the illusory

A victim of being lost in a poison pill

Sat as you are holding your writing quill

Writing your story which is all uphill

About a downward spiral of living life through a poison pill.