In the prison of souls
There is no control
It makes you a fool
For answering the call
Of its uplifting fall
For all that are compelled by its draw
Locked in my head
I wish I had fled
Yet, I stay in their stead
The profanity of your sanity
Sanitized existence prefaced by pestilence
You’ve been selected
To exit freedom
A dollar fiend
I try to wean
Yet never clean
Of the unseen need
For which we bleed
Separated from our seed
Tying our rope
With the hope
That we will see
When we are set free
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