Ketamania
Bluelight Crew
The Black Beauty of the World
It is inevitable, the Pain comes to us all,
Pain, it can manifest itself in infinite ways
An algorithm from the unknown, we cannot decipher it
This pain, it will eventually catch up to you
no matter how hard we run, it must show itself
Designed to show us the reality of this world
Those who it fails to grasp are lucky, they run free
What they do not understand though,
Yes, they are freed from the sufferings
But also the pleasures of life.
As for the others, pain takes us, trains us
We each walk our own path of suffering,
We all are sentenced by the unknown Judge, to trod on
The garden of thorns- for the rest of our preconceived existence.
We tread through the weeds
The thorns, they thresh our flesh
Covered in vibrant red thick blood, hot and sweaty,
we groan, tremble, and collapse,
the damned final cobblestone step
Face slams the ground, skull resonates
Lifeblood that has carried us from youth, spills
Reaching the end of that thorny path
“how did I get here?”
A beautiful, innocent, and joyful young child
Our frame is no longer recognizable
The blades and lashes of this life, scars immortal
Our progressively toughened hide, not worth a penny
No longer youthful, innocent, and without blemish
Akin to Black Beauty, a vibrant and powerful stallion
willing to perform his master’s whims whether cruel or fair.
Poor Black Beauty, even him, the absolute epidemy of nature,
His muscles burst with strength, like that of the human will.
Even an innocent beast, he snorts and paws at the ground,
He realizes we are all of the same flesh and blood
Not even him cannot resist the walk of life
He followed many cruel and kind masters,
Yet never stumbled from the path
Soul or soulless, it does not matter, we all walk the path as one divine kind.
That is according to the laws of nature, not of men or Gods.
Nature follows the same pattern- the ouroboros
At our last and most pitiful step, we scream “We cannot take this life no more!”
We yell at the Gods, “Oh why have you forsaken me?”
The ominous cause of suffering does not response
We are taken to see it instead
What lays behind death is thus a secret
As it is only reveled to those who finish the path of the thorns
Only those who have not appreciated life- fear death
Would you look back? That journey of choices?
Do not be dismayed at this journey,
Be as the innocent beasts of this world,
Finishing their trial, they have no sorrow
The weeds you trampled, now budded
Lovely blankets of lavender, an expanse of tulips
As traversing that terrible path of thorns,
did you fail see the roses above?
Do not let pain blindfold you, remove it!
Every soul after the other, a circle
Joy and sadness, lavender and weeds
Happiness can only exist if the fields are tended
And everyone who experiences the bliss of life
Must tend to the fields of the new generation
It is inevitable, the Pain comes to us all,
Pain, it can manifest itself in infinite ways
An algorithm from the unknown, we cannot decipher it
This pain, it will eventually catch up to you
no matter how hard we run, it must show itself
Designed to show us the reality of this world
Those who it fails to grasp are lucky, they run free
What they do not understand though,
Yes, they are freed from the sufferings
But also the pleasures of life.
As for the others, pain takes us, trains us
We each walk our own path of suffering,
We all are sentenced by the unknown Judge, to trod on
The garden of thorns- for the rest of our preconceived existence.
We tread through the weeds
The thorns, they thresh our flesh
Covered in vibrant red thick blood, hot and sweaty,
we groan, tremble, and collapse,
the damned final cobblestone step
Face slams the ground, skull resonates
Lifeblood that has carried us from youth, spills
Reaching the end of that thorny path
“how did I get here?”
A beautiful, innocent, and joyful young child
Our frame is no longer recognizable
The blades and lashes of this life, scars immortal
Our progressively toughened hide, not worth a penny
No longer youthful, innocent, and without blemish
Akin to Black Beauty, a vibrant and powerful stallion
willing to perform his master’s whims whether cruel or fair.
Poor Black Beauty, even him, the absolute epidemy of nature,
His muscles burst with strength, like that of the human will.
Even an innocent beast, he snorts and paws at the ground,
He realizes we are all of the same flesh and blood
Not even him cannot resist the walk of life
He followed many cruel and kind masters,
Yet never stumbled from the path
Soul or soulless, it does not matter, we all walk the path as one divine kind.
That is according to the laws of nature, not of men or Gods.
Nature follows the same pattern- the ouroboros
At our last and most pitiful step, we scream “We cannot take this life no more!”
We yell at the Gods, “Oh why have you forsaken me?”
The ominous cause of suffering does not response
We are taken to see it instead
What lays behind death is thus a secret
As it is only reveled to those who finish the path of the thorns
Only those who have not appreciated life- fear death
Would you look back? That journey of choices?
Do not be dismayed at this journey,
Be as the innocent beasts of this world,
Finishing their trial, they have no sorrow
The weeds you trampled, now budded
Lovely blankets of lavender, an expanse of tulips
As traversing that terrible path of thorns,
did you fail see the roses above?
Do not let pain blindfold you, remove it!
Every soul after the other, a circle
Joy and sadness, lavender and weeds
Happiness can only exist if the fields are tended
And everyone who experiences the bliss of life
Must tend to the fields of the new generation
