Pineal Gland Optics کے بول

How come I shiver, hurt and bleed If in dreams I cannot truly feel Who would dare say, who would claim This hallucination isn't real Synaptical glitch looking glass So enticing, real and free of lies Prodigious, omnifarious It nourishes, it feeds my starving eyes Artificial the catalyst, organic its progeny Voracious spectral offspring, so sweet in its hunger Unbound this new vision, optical regenesis Threatening, so complete in beautiful deformity These authorative visions order my collective senses My questioning, doubtful, rigid self to kneel A Judas syndrome in effect, former self the deceiver Its denial the wretched kiss that kept this in disguise Cast off, the conceiling veil, the rational cloak of doubt Torn off, the restraints, the blinded's shackles Burned away, the agony, the fear, the grief A new set of eyes cleansed by a new belief