Laughter - Ghostlimb

As simple as this all may seem

The doctrines and constructs work more easily

When clinging to the vestiges

Of youth, or familial obligation

A search for truth, through a blurry xeroxed repetition

A bitter ruse of heavenly competition

Remember everyday, when you wake up

You’re the product of, flesh and blood

So don’t cry, there’s no hell when you die