Electric sun

All the good are dreaming-locked in half-forgotten lore
Proclaiming "we are free!", and sullenly obey
Is irony a muse?
Dichotomy embellished?
In a world that knows no love
In a world that knows no hate

Half of me is gone
The rest will soon be leaving
All trace erased in rain
Vanity is fleeting
And so, the fall from grace
Oh god, what have they done?
The victims venerate
Or am I only dreaming?
Or am I only dreaming?

There're rumours of a saint, a wrath incarnate, ringed in flame
The righteous cower and hide, fearing punishment and blame
Beyond this there is nothing-in duty all will pray
And are we only dreaming?

The decline or the ascension-aimless; failing; self-assured
The righteous path to destiny that humanity won't endure
Artificial; ringing hollow; laments for what is gone
Running backwards, crying "forward", like a battle can be won

How can anyone place trust in fate, when hopes are left to die?
Uncaring of the common plight unless forced to care and cry
We're particles in motion-we can't accept we've no control
Racing helpless through the aether, staring outward from the world

Or am I only dreaming?
Are we only dreaming of the electric sun?