The echoes of a rhyme played time and again,
A familiar tune resounds again and again.
A soul in denial wallows the gallows of ignorance, unattentive and unreceptive.
A sleepwalker doses in the assembly line, unplugged from the program.
A puppet, unaware, dances to tunes, when strings are pulled.
Everything is an illusion, a well designed distraction, clouding minds from all that matters.
Emmalase
Emmalase