The noose is the third eye, the wake of destruction
I watch it dangling, the rope braided by poor folk
My hand can’t quite reach it, I laugh uneasily
The problem with buying cheap death
My brain holds these moments
They construct the scene, fill them with emotions
I remember the faces, the smells, the tastes
Moments so vivid that life pales in comparison
They used to tell me that I had the elixir of life
I worked hard to please the societal Oedipus
I worked hard to repel the machine labour
I worked hard to prolong the time of death
I was a miracle product of evolution
Just like a billion others, born in a cesspool gene pool
I wore the advertised money on my back
I wore the disguise of being content
I wore down my being to become what you meant
I was born into it, the dissatisfied hunger rampant
Cannibalistic rat race, blood dripping faces humane
Discordant dialogue drips with dead dissonance
My family, my town, my race, my continent, my language
I remember her, her facial features staring at me
Making an impassioned plea to buy something
Serviceable human contact, that too at a price
Life worthless like giving printed paper to mice
So they tell me to hang on to the coat tails
They tell me that society frowns upon it
They tell me that I have a purpose in life
They tell me, as I dig a hole in bought land
I still hear them, just as I am about to end it
It was as if I was deaf before, or they were mute
Just as I reach for the noose they shout
They call me a coward for pulling this shit on them
They call me a coward for not going through with it too
I am a coward regardless of which road I choose
My fellow man who still does not know my name
My fellow man who tried to guilt me into shame
So I look back at the noose, and it stares back
I have existed for less than that I did not
No one would care, as the noose hits neck bare
Hanging in mid-air, the same vacant, silent stare
