The Death of an Illusion

I once heard my mother say
That heaven isn't really so far away
But recently, something's changed in me
And I know this will kill her, but I'll have to disagree
'Cause I've grown tired of the stained glass and ceiling tiles
Prescription pills and the blind faith trials
It's genocide in a different style

I won't ask for forgiveness
I won't ask for forgiveness
I'm no longer afraid

Because I've found faith in myself and the people I love
Not through medication or forgiveness from above
Left in the dark with no divine light
Only helping hands and my own will to fight

With experience, we unearth the roots to grow
At one point in time, our rope ends or unwinds
And leaves your mind tangled and closed
Role-searching, it's what defeats and mangles most
But what keeps your heart soul-surfing
Lends to living on as ghosts

Maybe we're not all living in hell
But we've been conditioned to live in a prison cell
Hide me from whatever concept this instills
Or hang me from the rafters of this people mill

Death is an architect
It's shaping days and taking names
Through heart attacks and common disconnects

And at least I can say I'll be ready for it