D Y S T O P I A by Whispers
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I stare at the wall, wrapped within the silence I've become encased within.
I reach for the strings attached to my wrists, but as always - It's just an imaginary whim.
My lips, so parched, open to speak aloud to tell the tales my tear tracks have whispered.
But, as usual, it's lost within the sound of the wind as it drowns out the silent whimper.
I've been locked within this cage of ribs, for months and I've grown quite weary.
The person who's life I am to control, their atrocities have left me broken and leary.
Cobwebs have been spun by the spider mistress and her talented tendrils.
Such as that of the most beautiful fabrication of a seamstress and her spindle.
Humanity, we are but hung by these threads of existence from the puppeteer and his woes.
Dancing along, like puppets - we are to put on these silly little shows.
And all for but what? The watching eye of those above who have created our blight.
For, you see, our dystopian paradise is quite a hidden and cherished sight.
For the Giants to see, to pick and to prod at our strings like the toys we have become.
And for every journey we think we have faced, by fate, it was ordained by the One.
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Plagiarism is a Crime.
#LifeWhispers
#VirtualDystopia
