My soul is begging for home.
A distant reality.
Away from this ocean of emotionless thinking.
Where creatures roam,
Where we are free.
Not chained to desks reaping paper.
Is this life?
Such a fiscal façade.
One where we all kneel to the devil,
Take place in his evil,
Killing what’s around us for momentary gain.
I beg for my home.
The one I was meant for.
Not this…not what you call home.
I’m an alien among you.
One who is stranded and will soon be hooked to machines!
Analyzing why I will not conform.
Until the day they break me…
And I am nothing.
Not even a memory.