The clicking of the mouse and typing sounds
The sound falls to the ground as silence fills the room
The monotonous deadpan looks on everyone’s face
The dreadfulness of this mundane life
Like robots and clones and anything mechanic
We do things in life like it has all been pre-set in us
If our lives were recorded in a video
What would our movie be like?
Something drops and everyone slowly looks up
Then back down again back to their routine
The invasion
It slowly creeps into us
Everyday’s a cycle; a circle
We go round and round and round
Do we have a clue where our destination is?
Do we know where we’re heading to?
Like chameleons we change according to the environment
Losing our identity bit by bit as we go
How to awake from the deep deluded slumber?
Where are we even?
Then along the mundane routine that we follow each day
We may pause and ask “who am I really?”
Cast a spell,
TGND
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