The Expatriate's Surrender

From monsoon streets to emerald isle, I navigate uncharted ground, Each spreadsheet marks another mile While voices fence my world around. The pixel screens of yesterday Have vanished in this northern haze, Now bound in corporate array, I count the cost of borrowed days. Through latticed walls of chrome and might, I tally fortunes, line on line, Each decimal a measured bite Of memories I redesign. The morning fog transforms the bay, As numbers dance their strict routine, While others orchestrate my way, I drift, unanchored and unseen. -