Deafening - 2011/04/06

Lazy pale lips lay lifeless
Gritty glass blocks my view
Sorry sense of self settles
As I know nothing I can rue
Drab box is a new partition
Built using strong material
Now this island unto myself
Makes the world so ethereal

The backup measures include
Ten digits to fill our ears
And works of divine fantasy
To allay my innermost fears
Protest if you are inclined
We hear only ones converted
There is no gain in dealing
With logic of the perverted

You carry keys to my prison
Silly fool this is my place
Where I meditate and ponder
Our master I will soon face
In this room I am protected
Facts and figures fall flat
For if I refuse to hear you
There cannot be a real chat

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