it’s not a game they play it’s a message
one of intrigue and imagination
the gods getting their laugh at our expense
what mockery they sell us
as we fight each other to be drones and cogs
independent minds have no home
yet they demand we too adhere
morality funneled like water
another thing for them to profit from
thieves in the daylight
holding freedom hostage
constrained on the lake shore
waiting on the imperceptible tide
candles illuminate the procession of souls
rise in the morning
rinse and repeat
it could always be worse
but my friends
it should always be better
why must we just waste away
filling coffers we never see
or perhaps the cards will fall in favor
until realization speaks up
that wall is always the same
moments of adventure lost to time
as memories fade
so we recollect
refresh our thought
allowing focus to return to sight
it’s not a matter of ambition
the clock is always ticking
conceptual strain of direction
misguided energy
like a tree with too many branches
or a melody that never ends
About the Creator
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