Ruins

Life is a game, piped and cruel
No winners allowed, hidden rule
A never-ending cycle of failure
And no one to search for the cure

Posterity as reward for the braves
Hasn't changed the size of their graves

Puppets played like cheap toys
Worms struggling for fake joys
Filling their minds with wind
Pretending they aren't dead within

Fighting fire with fire
The only outcome they desire
Vacuous beings in disguise
In the end, only ruins arise

Aiming for a five-star afterlife
An endless worship strife
Insects idolatrous of better insects
Giving meaning to their intellects

Posterity as reward for the braves
Hasn't changed the size of their graves

Puppets played like cheap toys
Worms struggling for fake joys
Filling their minds with wind
Pretending they aren't dead within

Fighting fire with fire
The only outcome they desire
Vacuous beings in disguise
In the end, only ruins arise

Puppets played like cheap toys
Worms struggling for fake joys
Filling their minds with wind
Pretending they aren't dead within

Among them in this teeming anthill
I want to crawl out, try to heal
Selfishly enjoying their misery
They will quickly end their history