It drones on, with empty determination,
the moving mouth;
pouring out a jumble of blurring monotones,
onto halfhearted minds.
While stiff gears grind the rust of in-imagination
and spin silent thoughts,
that stay quiet and subdued.
The people move in silent obedience
to some empty hearted duty;
colonizing the corridors like clockwork,
hoping to find refuge in the knowledge,
behind their murmuring doors.
Solace to the lurking shadow,
a fragile future,
hung by fears and dollar signs.
An intangible force,
that makes our feet march in time,
along the road to success.