Feeling imprisoned in a soulless maze.
Where the simplest declaration is sullied with mud.
Made to feel weak for feeling at all,
And needing anyone,
Can this really be all there is for me?

Gazing at people parading as prizes,
But insecure under **** disguises.
Every time I feel I have loved,
It is always incomplete and faceless,
Almost abhorrent to its core.

Casting an ever wider gaze,
Looking with every fibre,
For something to summon me.
I have a purpose of that I am sure,
And I will not waste myself on lying cheating ******.