Tlazolteotl's Birdcage
Why? When he doesn't even have wings on his back
he still longs to the world yet unseen
Why? When unable to fly, the unchanging scenery is inviting
to the last days of premature ideals
While pretending not to be in a miniature garden
He's craving only for the sweet nectar again
A distorted shell
Why? When he doesn't even know the meaning of his flowing tears
he just hates this world
Why? He keeps hearing those flattering lies
that burn his body in lust
Blindly, he is digging his nails
into his unhealed wounds again, scooping out the flesh
Flowing crimson
Dreaming of a non-existent paradise
Drowning in momentary pleasure
Without even confirming the meaning of living here and now
a group of foolish beings are crying
The wheel of fortune which continues to spin
guides him to the edge of Thanatos
His means to oppose have all been taken
He turns his back and shuts his ears from the voice of his heart
While pretending not to be in a miniature garden
He's craving only for the sweet nectar again
A distorted shell
Blindly, he is digging his nails
into his unhealed wounds again, scooping out the flesh
Flowing crimson
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