In the court of truth.
Everybody's a suspect.
Nobody's spared to inspect.
Stripping away our lies.
Where our bloated ego punctures and dies.
We try to delay our presence in the court.
We always find comfort in our home's abode.
Where we feel elated and joyous.
Satiating our wants and tantrums.
Our lies shoves us with sugary hopes.
Making our egos bloat.
We can't even fit in the court.
Where sickly people resides.
Being tired by their inspecting minds.
They want to resign.
But they too are prisoners of their ego.
Which epitomizes the appalling court.
What an ironical joke it is.
Where ego judges its own heroes.
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