Destined for desire fulfillment
We aren't, yet to pursue it is our will
Built-in within us is survival instinct
Which rules our behaviour until it's fullfilled,
recycled souls with all buttons instilled, with no recollection we fight and we kill
Puppets moved by momentary reactions
Pursuaded into action through noisy distractions
If only for a fraction of the tiny satisfaction we were all sold
In this game we play,
eternally involved in spite and in shame
Except in our dream state, where longing turns into insights
I can only wait.. For my eyes to tire, for the end of days, for night to set and all else dissipate.
K