Sick Soft Perfection - Subtle

Seems it’s become man’s cross death lasting duty

To dispose completely of the bright behind beauty

And this word is somehow then killed

And put back as it’s fake

Like it was only kept outside apes in the first place

Overworked words like 'beauty' are an undeserved sort of

Safety scissors for their purpose

Were it only meant to be adapted to Hollywood dull

Leaving a red white & blind eye lain null

Where beauty once saw only passage through the human skull

With red white and The skull

Six million ways to to to The skull

Chose one

With red white and The skull

Six million ways to to to

Chose one

Will you soon become one of the many most-empty sons

Hung to kill none and done

Or will you beget a twice life yet

Since effects are always wearing off

The no-concern eclipse they so anticipate

As its perfect fight dream dissipates

Across work weeks crashing

And empty’s open asking

There is a sick soft god

Human perfection

In someone’s hard-to-find birdhead collection