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Retina
By Armin Forouzan
Are your gimmicks
still apparent? Until the day truth unfolds and time dies, the clocks running Its funny, our bills are soaked in dirt so we continue to wash money But if we scrub harder, a layer beneath these Presidents and Prime Ministers is revealed The image of a sword, to cut down destitution And strength greater than divine protection in the form of a shield Let me be the bearer of renaissance, the advocate wearing black in a room Painted as white Tainted amidst this social outcry for justice, but what is justice But a moral debate between what's wrong and what's right So who's David, who's Goliath? Who's good and who's evil? Is it precarious government or nefarious people? Subject to judgment, subtle disconnecting all these sudden appendages Summoned by destiny's methods but subdued by its subliminal messages Thus we engage in political ritual And power becomes our sociopolitical currency Freedom becomes an abstract concept even though it lives in every pad of paper and pen in this damn universe And instead we use war for industry, economy and clarity We use war because apparently war is power's charity And more importantly in war, we all lose Not human life or means of production But lose a strand of consciousness The paradox of our existence So if power becomes the standard Then revolution is a fact of life in every sense of the term In every bend of the word, every syllable curves and burns holes inside the retina of good and evil's binary Blinding dichotomy for the simple purpose of seeing truth Truth which lies in a pitch black room bleeding Victory's breathing So loud and too arcane to let you bury Truth allows these consonants to rain down, so lay down And allow me to drown your souls like a flooded cemetery Because every human, in this society, revolts at one point or another Forget the poisonous dichotomy of Who is Good and who is Evil Rather, what is truth? |
