We construct our fantasies
Then appoint priests to guard the gates
Thus creating our gods
Engineered to cut us off
Refusing us entrance into our fantasy
We clothe our heros in clothes of glimmering gold
To convince ourselves that they are beyond us
We worship in order to excuse ourselves from the struggle
We stand in awe, precisely so that we dont need to become, aware
Becoming starstruck
We are saved from the horrors
Saved from the realization
That our gods are fantasies we’ve fabricated
Drawing on our projections of self
Stand strong then
So that your gods can do the same
And reduce the risk of facing your harsh reality
Hold them, hold them at bay
And watch them with wonder
With dead eyes
Rescued from wander-ing
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