Where can we find ourselves in our most decrepid form?
Can we find falley in the forest of designed preperation that haunts us, in the dark receses of light lost?
Come and free us from our phantom grace that awaits us in a dawning deception.
Peir into the urine soaked gutters of unseen giants favored by inlightinment.
Call out to the wolves den, herold us into valor damnation.
For we are as we can only be seen in the eyes of machine driven junkies.
We are filtered and formed in television's glow, we've become a mass of hording ghost lost in consuming piles of our favorite narcissistic endeavors.
Can we truly ever be ourselve's, can we ever be whole, can we ever be humble in the wake of a mass disease that eats the flesh of what we truly are?
This content reflects the personal opinions of the author. It is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and should not be substituted for impartial fact or advice in legal, political, or personal matters.
© 2010 journyman