what crime is worth the signature - right

what lie is worth the sacrifice

of knowing you are true to yourself

of holding in a truce this our time in life



I stand before the shell of memory

To force remembrance through mortality

I trust the hand that holds no life

In death we find demands -

trust in death seems our one true right



In death we hold subjective memories

In life we make our name in forgery

What's it worth to live in mocked reality?

What's life if yours is form - indignity?