A promise was made to the moon one day.
A day like any other, waxing poetic like the nobody that we are.
Creating the biggest gambit, and the largest fool.
Draw the card, become subjected to the pool of dismay.

Draw deep inside the pool, what does one see?
Does one see their actions pile like a house of cards?
Hiding in the arbor of sins is the decade old sanity of your lark.
All is aware of our composure on this brittle iceberg, it does not take long to crumble.

New years begin, the heart still beats to this day thanks to overwhelming support.
Not by his actions, but by the whimsy of mercy. Not by justice, but by pure luck.
Everyone desires a proof-read testimony to defy fate, and everyone wants control of their actions.
Nobody wants to be left out. Nobody wants to be without a script.

Ancient lies still cling on to this day like pathetic ants.
We invented all of our words, we created our differences.
No one wants to clean up the mess. No one wants to be called insignificant.
In this matrix of lies, it is your presence alone that stands as the single greatest alarm.

In this mansion of illusion, our words carve a cold sweat to all in attendance.
In this realm of trickery, our beliefs were pathological lies.
Everyone points their finger. Yet the poise of the arm could not lie.
Everyone is surefire in their beliefs. Yet the ground they stand on was a mere illusion.

In this realm of joy, we created sadness.
In this sandbox, we gave control to something else.
In this world, we birthed the end.
In this time, we nurtured pain.

More years begin, time makes all dull to the sensation of fear.
No one wants to be enslaved. Every one wants to be king.
In the sky, we placed the weight of our sins.
In space, the seeds of our creation give way to a curse.

Every one wants to be something. No one wants to be forgotten.
Every one wants to impart knowledge. No one wants to be blind.
Every one faces a grave peril. No one ever lied.
Did no one ever lie?

Everyone died.
Murder room mystery.