The Source (revised)

Slipping dread and awe and undoing
each thought, each measure reviewing
until the placement of your doubt
slips and leaves you with no way out,
fallacy and fright plague the present
until you condone time not well spent,
until envy and disease become words
and anyone, anything else preferred,
silence, then, takes its own course
and you decide to destroy the source,
an action defined and lacking virtue,
but then, that was always you...
wasn't it?

You cut down man with your tongue
by justifying facts others have sung,
you slip a speak never harsh to break,
but a force of habit is now at stake,
you open wide letting loose the tide
to cause a rift to ensure we divide
and walk ways away without a word
which was always what you preferred,
silence and satisfaction, no remorse,
and you decide to destroy the source,
an action defined and lacking virtue,
but then, that was always you...
wasn't it?

That was always you...
wasn't it?