Why am I trapped in these things I feel?. An existence so surreal. These fabricated walls that hold me inside. Unjustly charged with my greatest fears.
What I know is I feel dead. Alone and in this world so cold. Emptying the urn of all that's left. Burning the candle at both ends. One less flame awaits the dawn.
We're all born with a terminal chip installed. And a noose wrapped around the neck. Swallow pride, bite the pain. As you join the world on a steel coffin ride.