The Color of the Shape

What if I told you that what you believed
Was a lie from the pit and you've been deceived
What if I told you the sky wasn't real
If your life was a lie, how would you feel?

Would you fall on your knees and pray to your God?
And if you lived a lie, would he spare the rod?
When judgment day comes and you hear the call
Will you reach for his hand or will you just fall?

The mind is a thing not easily made
Yet you drive yourself onto the blade
He tried to help you, he offered you aid
But you looked away and died in the shade

Remember, remember what you have read
Because the end of the world starts in your head
Remember, remember what I have said
It matters now but it won't when you're dead

I saw the pattern, that turned to a shape
I saw it first but even I was to late
I saw the trap that you can't escape
I saw the joy, the knife uses for bait

It comes from the pattern and shape I speak of
It's made out of hate but it calls itself love
So remember these words as you're dragged through the mud
The shape has a color, the color of blood
 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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