Where the Auras of Error Beckon

Swept up from the intimidating breeze that charges from the heart Towards the planet with moons of three rotating counter clockwise Past the stars, beyond this gate of subconscious greed Recollections for our memories to feed upon as life slips away Regret is just a replica of what will be in this trap of time Burrowing its way into our soul's fragile mind Looking down towards the ground in a glare safe from sound I loop around the whispers bound by what's found None of this is real And none of us care Bruising towards the reckoning A timeless walk through air Auras of error beckoning With lots of hate to spare Voices high bludgeoning And no one of us care