Waking is like that final breath before the plunge Down deeper into the thick of possibility Where I find the Nietzchian mastery That mentality that dominates and conquers Leaving behind the pitiful Weaker modes of being That sharp edge of nihilism that propagates The negation of substantial purpose And living becomes a series of tasks that are manageable Not the overbearing jumbled cluster **** of modern man
How I dream of Walden That escape to find existential meaning That reverts me back to an independent self that relies on not man but nature To derive sustenance Long for that shack In the middle of no where where the worry of the day is to feed myself And to stare at the stars Instead of work long hours and still have no freedom to see
But it is not probable that I will have an escape For the planet is dying one tree at a time And the ignorance of our species is making My exodus a place worse than the suburb At least there I don't witness the choking of innocent creatures on pollution Gasping for air through lungs riddled with fume And foaming on plastic by product
While I contribute no animosity towards my mother I participate by association And feed the monster it's favorite treat That sickly green paper And a snack of penny meat
While my exceedingly more mechanical mind cranks the cogs tighter And starts to rhyme Filling in the line space and paying my dues I become another body Thus a weapon to the corporateΒ Β move