Listless Life

Many people are shackled to life,
Hands that were once creative
bound in long and heavy chains,
Here and there and back again,
Repeating each day on end,
Over and over ad infinitum,
Life bleeding ’til veins run dry,
Gutted by the blade of monotony,

They toil and work and slave away
for a reward that is anything but,
And their wills are beaten, broken,
‘Til they are nothing but shells,
Empty husks of themselves,
Chasing a golden apple that is
dangled in front of their noses,
Always held just beyond reach,

And when the sun retires to rest,
They shuffle back to their abodes
and they fall into their readied beds,
Tossing and turning in restless sleep,
‘Til dawn’s coming, when they stir,
Awakening to labor and to toil,
Like cogs in a mindless machine,
They spin but get nowhere.

BY Hegemony

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s