Reazon...

The Reasons we discourse
Are always Lies
The mind rationalizes such
Infantile thoughts as if
Truth can be apprehended

Truth, or what is left
Of the tattered rags
Of mind, merely blinds
The Seeker to the Lies
They tell themselves

Deep in primeval mists
Of Brainstem and Lore
You React and fall prey
To wonderment, jest
Playing off your Pain

But time fleets, drawing
Always to a close
Little remaining but
The grasping of waxen emotives
Whilst Fate laughs

Granted depth of knowledge
Granted desire of trust
None shall suffice
For at the End of Days
Alone stand you to the Crossroads

Fall upon your sword
Kill the falseness of self
Of Lie and Delusion
We all entwine about; then
Become the Phoenix Reborn