Etched Into This World

nonsense, basically.

Crossed, contorted out of clay, molded like an adult.  Etched into a ball of dirt and water, floating in the dark, in infinite emptiness.  A smile, a grimace, a solemn pair of lips.... controlled and whipped as a delusional slave.  Severed from society, scorched by emotion, cheated by a babbling fool.  Caressed by the physical beauty, yet slashed by the mental homeliness.  As a leashed mouse scattering through the night, I make my way through the desolate paths.  

Doting to this Earth, yet impartial to my room.  

I cry, I smile, I breathe.