These shackles made not of steel but of something darker
Keep us here in this place of anguish and torment
To drive our sanity over the edge of reality
All while pushing comprehension and understanding aside
That what are minds perceive may inevitably lead us astray
And be the rise of our own downfall. . .
For what is the game of Fate without puppets?
Pawns are we to the greater envisioned plan
That our accursed master has placed before us
Without the rules and guidelines that allow us to play
So that we may act in unknowing accordance to it's laws
And blindly follow till we fail to achieve anything. . .
So damned are we, the servants of a cruel master
That we offer up what little else is left of us
To live out our lives in service to it and it's cause
Whose purpose is but a single and defined one
As we twist and burn with white-hot fire
Do we fall forever in this swirling abyss of emptiness
To ensure that our Master’s Wheel continues to turn. . .
Perfection_In_Silence Community Member 
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