What Will THEY Think?
I ponder to what they’ll say when I take off my mask, what they’ll think when I show my true hideous colours to the world
As they sit and watch in the restful comfort of their homes, enveloped within the passiveness of their screens
Taking control over their consciousness, their every thought until all that remains of them are shells, their corpses now puppets
Designed to be beaten and thrashed, corrupted and controlled as they dangle from glistening strings suspended in the empty lifelessness of the air
Void of all remaining life and humanity, forced to stare blankly into the ethereal abyss of the curtain as their sense of time drains away
And as I wonder to what they will think of me as I utter my final words, speaking into the blackness as if they could truly comprehend my language
So different from their own, as a bullet rings out across the air, shattering the infinite silence as my naked body limps to the cold, penetrating floor
And I am at last free.