In glass displays, they stand, forever seeking new prosthetics
In glass displays, they stand, forever seeking new prosthetics,
Slumbering consciences drift on waves of ads and hollow promises,
We swallow mass culture whole, like blind fish in murky waters,
Forgetting to deeply breathe life's essence, lost in superficial noise.
Distorted mirrors show us false faces, we steal our own identity,
Invisible barriers rise between us and existence's crucial questions,
The soul, a captive bird, breaks its wings in cages of consumption,
Our spirit, once thirsty for knowledge, fades slowly, unheard.
We are puppets of a civilization offering us artificial limbs,
Instead of healing deep wounds, it covers us with shiny bandages,
Estranged from ourselves, we become strangers within our being,
Forgetting to look inside, hypnotized by pale lights and sounds.
Consumerism devours our essence, turns us into pale shadows,
Our souls, once blooming gardens, now become barren deserts,
We seek happiness in things, ignoring the wealth hidden within,
Becoming robots without conscience, lost in the labyrinth of mass culture.
O, souls lost in the jungle of concrete and plastic, awaken from lethargy!
Break the chains that hold you captive in the illusion of prefab happiness,
Rediscover your spiritual essence, that sacred fire burning within,
For only thus can we save ourselves from the abyss of a senseless existence.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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