Allegories of euphoria drip from pen, triggering deja vu.
Spiraling down holes where white rabbits go with a clock around my neck; don't wanna be to late to open up and look through a different point of view.
Spitting out bones as I chew; infinite elasticity makes room for truth when the fear of searching has faded. Becoming aware of the bluescreen and the avatar of which I exist in, I'm breaking through the cages.
There's so many checkered floors and doors that lead to more doors. Huge ones you can walk on through and small ones only built for the willing to crawl.
What's a life lived without seeking for truth and knowledge?
What's life like beyond Truman's wall.