Grey Feet

Fire of life once held inside

Flickering dimly holding out to die

Clockwork held in place

Constant weight, sense of purpose decays

Haze of mediocrity and vain

Corrodes the will, forcing us down

Lacking another way

Never turning it around

Look through the centre of their eyes

Cycles of bland routine

Haze of mediocrity and vain

Pushing down in frozen miles

The looming fear, assured impending pain

Blinds us to the lies we hold inside