This world just makes me want to scream,
how annoying the stars,
in the darkness above the dome,
sparkle like a dream.
We accept our status inside,
of course, we closed the bars,
reminders of no place to roam,
life at home is a hell,
different, this is where we reside.
Just as astronomers
understand galaxies beyond
sorrow, photographers
take images that make us fond.
Must I ring a doorbell,
ask for a change, or a passport,
kiss this boredom goodbye,
even if I could leave, I'm stuck,
stuck in a last resort.
Maybe if I chew off my leg,
even if I could cry...
Why this rat trap glue, what the fuck,
as I try to escape,
nobody hears me as I beg
to find release, mokṣa.
To liberate me from this birth
of science from doxa.
Silence, the void, what am I worth,
catching bats with a cape,
rats ignore a rat in a trap,
even if I could leave,
a vow made is a vow, a map
made to help us believe.
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