Lines of Destruction
I plan to put you in front lines of destruction.
Your consciousness embraces my palm of power.
I’ll place your flowery heads in my personal garden.
An ordered agenda where the back ones start to sour.
I’ll blame the way I sort you on evolution,
And you can stop and ponder until the end.
Am I playing as a diluted God?
Or am I playing part
Of the best solution?
I send you off to battle, the front lines of destruction.
Your personal flaws and wrinkles are avoided,
You agree with me because everyone else is led.
And ones with perfect haircuts only admitted.
I’ll blame the way I sort you on evolution,
And you can stop and ponder, but it’s a sin.
Am I playing as a diluted God?
Or am I playing part
Of the best solution?
I see the pretty flowers, and I’ll make up my mind.
To see the difference is not a product of my design.
The way one is born is the way one shall be perceived.
Any difference makes no difference,
The prettiest shall succeed.
The lines of destruction are my front lines for evolution,
But can you still stop and ponder until the end?
What sin?