Sold to a familiarity and sold to a friend.
Soul too feeble, a soul to suspend.
Where in tradition have I offered a helping hand.
Where altruism remains a deceptive act of humility
A paradox of kindness, paradigms of humanity.
In good faith and in the mirage of time, on my unconditional help, I have you depend.
And I am sold, with nothing left on to me,
For this selfless act of humility
Deceives me to deliver more with my capability,
My honor, my rage now how do I defend?
On my cost of this hallucination of time, I have you depend.
With this simplistic modesty,
I remain nothing but a commodity,
Non-monetary transactions, have me sold to an expense,
Words of wisdom that may return?
With non-altruistic models of suspense.
For it has come to me to give my all, without an end.
For I am sold to you, on the cost of expensive clocks, on me I have you depend.
This transaction remains lost in time,
The vendor talks to the customer, no sales tax combined.
A plethora of consignments delivered, dilapidated on-lookers, costly affairs in line.
For have I sold jewels, and precious rhinestones, paintings of the mighty lords,
or on crowns, I have had the vendor spend.
Sale on soul, and sold the soul, cost in-effective strategies too rigid to bend.
customer to be left with hollow virtues, on the cost of this carcinogen called time, he has you at will, he has you depend.