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Empathic Communicator, Part I: Homage to the Hunter (Unconcious Incompetence)

Name
Are you conscious?
Or are you still fucked?
By design,
you still can�t figure me out�
By design,
you are still riddled with no surge of insight�
On the floor,
lied the empty shells of your defenses�
Pray to god you�re deaf when the gun goes off�
Will my eyes
back to
sleep.
I seek out the light
And come out blind.
My dreams remind,
That I am just a vessel.
[The Hunter]: �One by one�
�You were born from words, ghosts, crimes.
So, I�ll take you to hell
Without exit or end��
It�s a war for your soul on every front.
My mind in the cross-hairs of some transient gun,
All while the world remained unchanged�

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