Conviction

The freedom within living in perfect consistence,
Questions this peculiarly strained twofold of an existence,
A world in which I can dance to perfect persistence,
And another in which I can perform to a twofold resistance.

Rivers of asphalt form the pathways of my convictions,
Tell me, son of man, were these not your initiate predictions?
Am I to remain uncorrupted by these consequent moral afflictions?
And yet... we are only as real as these condescending words and fictions.

I cannot be anymore than I already believe,
I am the embodiment of every meaning I've come to perceive,
I shall die in a time when lies can no longer conceive,
I shall die in a time when truth, instead, is destined to deceive.