The whole and the apex of things,
In a curvy lane of made up events,
Secretly cheating on self and relevant slaves,
Trusting an artificial flow of sands,
Inverting and unfolding the tone of the Caller,
Which efforts are not blessed by hope,
Born and bred into an automated mechanism,
No chance of waking up or defeating the incorrect,
Raised questions are easily filled,
An eternally examined organism at its knees,
Fainted chaos into unreality,
Flush the shape of the caged race,
Trapped by their weakness,
Trust, truth, the inborn curse.