Stress
Unessesary pressure, lives
upon your soul subjugating
It captures , holds your civilized
nature
Like parasite that feeds on its
victim;
The stress makes you forget
yourself
And in the mirror it's not you
That looks at you from depths
forgotten
Your face is numb, dark, with
pale smile, filled with
distasteful apathy
Gazing like a ghost from its
comfortable grave.
But for a moment you think you
are living
But that illusion is the end,
You just exist in your false
safety
Without thrill, without pleasure,
Just like a shadow on the busy
streets.
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