Our slave master

Empty souls, alive
Unconscious slumbers, awake
Sightless stares, open wide

Man running from demise,
An escalating stair to nothingness
A fate tied to his mortal body

We all work so hard,
Buried desires in our hearts,
Driving our minds to the world’s end

That we become blind to all,
But our self absorbed goals
Giving responsibility to our weary selves

The meaningful seconds under the sun’s warmth
And hours of silent sleep under the stars
The truth about what drives us

Not money, or love,
Food, clothing, or power
But satisfaction from their acquisition

That life is a worthwhile after all
And that, I call responsibility
Our slave master…

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