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.