Author Information
Purpose, Suspended
And months and years may stretch to fill
This day of gray that sets in still,
Despite the work we've put in to see
That we might live them out, happily.
Pixels flash to grow our wealth,
Rearing our brain to lose some health,
And then we're paid to carry on
A life we have come to settle on.
What lives as brave just at a desk?
When you see your purpose as grotesque.
I pray you to ask what did you leave
To exist solemnly with no reprieve.
At nights our pixels morph to show
Worlds and beings greater so,
Distract the mind, let it run,
Trick it to some semblance of fun.
And then the dark as fleeing ends
Surface again, with the bends.
And hope for a sleep escaping still
Then wake again to get your fill.
