Nebula

Nebula

Waves of exhaustion crash into you.

Let them seep in past the barrier.

Let them melt into your false reality;

your fake identity.

Wisps of the unknown threaten to pull you under

into a whole new world

full of freedumb.

Corrupt stillness is the truth,

but the truth hardly matters anymore.

Weakness plagues your grasp

so much so that you no longer feel.

You no longer think.

You simply ride.

Ride the apathetic movements planned out for you.

Engage in the thick grey

and absence of friction.

Abandon the roots and

plant deeper ones.

Forgive and forget the pre-trained mind.

The vivid temporary is oh so tempting,

yet we still ride the waves.

We fly until we

surface.