call it freedom

the time is just draining
i'm straining
to see
how to be
like the greed
that i see
from the meek
who believe
to be free
they must bleed
for the deeds
and feed
on the need
to be seen
by a
machine
that deems them
unclean

it's a mystery
to me
the way that
they grieve
in this thing
we call love
we call hate
all above
it's too late
to relate
to a fate
that's come on
too late

the hour is gone
and the traps
are all sprung
when it's over
it's done
and there's no way
to run
from the sun
when it's melting
the skin
from your face
and it's always too late
when you're running from fate

the night
and the day
they are always the same
it's a shame
when there's
no one to blame
for the game
for the change
that's deranged
they
keep us all tame
we are weak
we're maim
they'll promise
us fame
but deliver us
shame
a life for the lame

there's no way
to gain
in this game
gone insane
another link
in the chain
feeling nothing
but pain
from the strain
like splitting
the veins
in your neck
in your throat
it's a joke
a yoke
from the egg
born of rage
in an age
torn of a page
in a book
that's
set the stage
to develop the cage
called imprisonment