Never amazed by anyone who takes after it,
Disasters in the mind of another plastered in,
The walls they’ve built,
Running from the truth everyone thought they’d fill their voids with.
Given no choice but to get wired into the Maze we were never meant to figure out…
Survival of the fittest!
Seems like there’s more for an individual as long as they fit in.
If you catch a fit?
You’ll be tightened to a rope,
Thrown into an ocean full of fishes.
If you walk in a fashion and a frame of mind similar to theirs?
You arr uplifted!
Above anybody with a soul worn out from trying to stay clear of a night of drinking.
A night of smoking till you’re enveloped by cloudy vision…
Isn’t that where we all want to be,
Up in the clouds?
We rely on the Machine,
For a feeling felt internally,
Freedom you don’t really get to know if you’re not a leech,
Syphoning weak body after weak body of their glow…
That glow stemming from who we really are.
That place where we shine bright avoiding every farce insecure individuals dress the truth with,
For reasons they may never see.
Some are too blind to ever reach,
For a switch that’ll brighten up a room darker than what’s festering inside of their conscious…
A glow they can only find unless they face the walls they’ve built,
And seek to demolish…