I feel like my hands aren't my own
My body is no longer my own
My steps are hollow
My movements too animated
I feel the tide turning in my head
The waves are breaking
And only causing chaos
Lawlessness and disarray
Anarchy and pandemonium
.....

It's calculated
I am realizing all too late I'm losing
Something is changing
A modification
A shift
A revision
I feel I'm operated by somebody else
Not me but a variant
A voice akin to my own
A parallel that has made it clear
It will either win or it will destroy me.

.....

No more black and white
No more good and bad
No more hero and villain.

.....

All alone, not really.

.....

May you remember me
For who I once was

.....

This disease
No
This sickness
No
This ailment
No
This disorder
No.

.....

I now have a liberator
Guardian
Rescuer
Preserver
Salvager even.

.....

He has been saved
What you call *******
Oppression or tyranny
Jurisdiction or dominion
Is deliverance
Emancipation or independence.

.....

I woke up today
My hands felt like my own
My steps were substantial
My movements absolute and genuine
My ocean tranquil and mute
And for now, I recite a cantilcle
Of bliss and appreciation
To no god in particular.