Iwalk

I bathe in ineptitude-- Adjacent to grief Returning to folly-- I'm chasing my ghost We're breeding dissension-- With hearts made from silence We hire duplicity-- And, plot our demise We yearn for relation-- But, speak to a Robot Devoid of ambition-- We live in our Dreams Inert in supercilious nature-- Buried in pages We're training our synapses-- [To...not...feel...a...thing] The way which we're living-- It's closer to dying But, we're just pretending-- We aren't the same I gaze in the mirror: A ghost of Intention I wake in the discord With my head down, iWalk...