Toy Box
I don’t want to get out of the box today, it is always the same. Master comes play with us, then puts us away.
All of us don’t want to get out of the box, we are just forced, since we are all the jesters of our king that made us.
He likes to control us with every tap and sound, he holds us with his strings, he is our god.
I play in his act, the strings twist and turn, my body is his toy.
When he sees darkness I am there, his eyes shows grief I stare.
He continues to play as if I don’t feel, my body tears I want to feel as if I’m real.
I wake up the same, just in a loop. My life is just for entertainment, not what I want to do.
I want to rest, I don’t feel real, but I cannot since I am god’s toy.
The toy box is my home and a place where I can see darkness, it is full of dust, it is my only calm from outside.
That is when I can truly rest.
