Clawing, Clawing, Never Cutting Through
You exist, dead star vacuum
Dismembered progress
Subliminal public display
You insist, it reawakens
A phantom floats behind you
Its breath falls cold on your neck
You can never bring it here
You can never will yourself back
The harder that you try
The more your mind will crack
You enlist, raw nerve rotting
Control the herd
Through light, image and word
You resist, tasked to suffer
Self-made martyr
Drunk on tears of sympathy
You can never bring it here
You can never will yourself back
The harder that you try
The worse your mind will crack
Kick against the pricks
Reach into the past
Through the thorns and glass
Grasp onto the nothingness
You dismiss the systematic
Deny your evolution
While acting like an animal
You are the hands of Mammon
Shape-shifting mask builders from planes of sterile trust
Non-phototactic spoon-fed narcissists that keep clawing
(never cutting through)