More old writing

Untitled

This life I lead is nothing
Hollow attempts at temporary relief
The monotonous droning of the big machine
seduces the ignorant

Safety is but a happenstance
The machine consumes them
Its hunger is insatiable
Greed can’t hold a candle to this

They are all free slaves
Shackles and blindfolds
Thunder strikes and the skies weep
The word ends with a glorious

Exit stage left

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