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As the morning spits me out into a new day,
I give myself over to the everlasting shade of existence.
I am awaiting the pale routine, a quintessence of nothingness.
As I look into the achromatic sky,
I feel fucking sick.

See the mindless drones flowing through pipes of concrete
They are heading towards their empty purpose.
Their dreams, their individuality, crushes by routines.
Yet they smile and believe they are alive.
Their heart more than a metronome to walk in lockstep.

Let me out, give me a reason,
In insignificance I cease to exist.
I just want to fade into the bleak horizon
Dissolve into grey matter.

I am so tired of these cloned concentric days.
I just want to close my eyes, unable to find a reason to resist.
I do not need to see anything anymore,
the endless feedback of repetition is burned in my mind


I smell the stench of puke and piss from the nightly streets
What is left of desperate attempts to decompose the intellect?
The need to lose consciousness in intoxication.
The anesthetic need of survival, the need to sleep through another day
As we head to the end, we build our monuments of nothingness.

All these years lost in repetition,
all deeds the deeds of the masses.
So fade away
from and into grey matter.

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