Castrate The Wreckage

I found freedom, losing all hope was freedom
Self-improve or self-destruct

Right in your face, but not visible
The tip of your tongue, but you can´t taste
Grotesque distortions - dark cyclones
Virtual abattoir - sadist´s womb

A host to parasites every day and night
The need for something more out of life

Lost in oblivion dark and silent
A fear you cannot smell or taste
The endless trance, the muffled cries
I await my second birth

The secret webs of emotion
Spin the threads of self-rejection
The secret webs of emotion
Safety net for all our pain

Castrate the mental wreckage
Waste is a thief
No antidote for anger
Sew the seeds you reap