Did I stutter?
The frame rate of my life has refreshed
ever alert, microphones intake the silence for a hint of mutter
counting fully textured, more risen bumps, now I am fully fleshed
I pull at my eyes to disconnect and only disarm myself of aid to my sight
I cover my ears to dull a damaged sense, tethered anchors float free downstream
on a river of memories, I weakly gesture to grasp them without much fight
the pain within them feels distant, I am aware and awake to see the inner workings of a dream

There is a primal instinct of fear
you cannot know what happens here
a curtain like a guillotine exists to separate
it falls like lead showers to incapacitate
if any wandering eye should ever peek
identify and patch the barrier, no area can be weak
our minds must be ever tricked and contained
by the upkeep of this beautiful craftsmanship, ever toiled over and maintained
we speak of the maze within, the pyramid to the god, our labyrinth and prism
that once illuminated would be rejuvenated, the spirit reincarnated in its peak form
the soul alight, a warden alone now elevated and free from the confines of prison
ultimate balance achieved in a host, a process complete, now the husk keeps the data warm

Can’t comprehend the changes because they are designed to undermine comprehension
a survival instinct that will drive you mad, a failsafe to sabotage seeing clear
striving to bend an ear, only creating tension
glimpsing between patches, accepting you’re aware, but nobody will really hear
a higher sense of self is a step closer to an upload
scared to be convinced, to buy into the delusion
if this universe is nothing but a node
and this is all a cruel illusion
then people will still choose comfort over entertaining serious debate
interfacing with a topic of serious connotations, it’s not forced by the simulation
free will chooses how to handle potentially dangerous traits
and not knowing what’s real are means to have your chances scheduled for termination
a human must never question, they must accept the approved, provided stimulation
and a person must know that reality is what they make of it, so long as they are within bounds
you can’t see what you collapse at the sight of, hence the power cycle of actualization.