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A slave, I no longer know of pain, To easy to succumb, Wrong you say, it's not a game. The battles have begun. Colonised, we seek the truth, Anywhere but here, Slamming, kicking, screaming out. Not knowing what we fear. Beating keys, an ant-like tune. Peddling, shores awash with debris. New story, old story, make it count. No minute wasted, just be. A loud moan rising to panic, Who dares make such noise, then delay. Return to your stations dear slaves. Be minions, unafraid, decay. Sip, slurp, be nothing; now chirp. The clicks will tell time passes. Cautious of ants being usurped Lift your head, nod to the masses. As I bowed to greet the bed, Strange thoughts began to fade, The mob that crowded city streets, Now lost to another day. And all I can hear are worries, The sorrows, the cries hanging 'round. Echos of distant ambitions. The haunting, those perilous sounds. It stood in doorways, laughing. It reached our subconscious states. Repressed, it pushes those boundaries, Destroyed, with little fate. Plenty arise to follow, Plenty arise to just be, Plenty leave life behind them, Not on my time, not me.
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
Not on my time
A slave, I no longer know of pain, To easy to succumb, Wrong you say, it's not a game. The battles have begun. Colonised, we seek the truth, Anywhere but here, Slamming, kicking, screaming out. Not knowing what we fear. Beating keys, an ant-like tune. Peddling, shores awash with debris. New story, old story, make it count. No minute wasted, just be. A loud moan rising to panic, Who dares make such noise, then delay. Return to your stations dear slaves. Be minions, unafraid, decay. Sip, slurp, be nothing; now chirp. The clicks will tell time passes. Cautious of ants being usurped Lift your head, nod to the masses. As I bowed to greet the bed, Strange thoughts began to fade, The mob that crowded city streets, Now lost to another day. And all I can hear are worries, The sorrows, the cries hanging 'round. Echos of distant ambitions. The haunting, those perilous sounds. It stood in doorways, laughing. It reached our subconscious states. Repressed, it pushes those boundaries, Destroyed, with little fate. Plenty arise to follow, Plenty arise to just be, Plenty leave life behind them, Not on my time, not me.
lilly-gibbons
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 4:09 PM UTC
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