I'm on my knees, and they are sinking deeply into the mud.
My hands clasped tight, my knuckles bruised and chalk white
This prayer is not for the god I do not believe in,
but for man, that exists so clearly.

For the seas of corporate depression.
My own, weary bones.
Corrupt with the stories the television has told.
Our minds are no longer our own. Confusing ourselves for an image to be upheld.

Placing weight in feathers instead of stones.

Please heed my words, and take the time to figure you out.

Born where money is king over our own dying trees.
Greed is the only color green we even see anymore.
We place our love and loyalty into a system that is loveless.
Because we were told to.

I pray that some of us wake from this induced slumber,
we shake our a coma and become the giants we are.
To live among the air without taking from it.
To make strides to just get better, and expect nothing for it.

*To be human...
In a time of machines