2084

Your Orwellian claws dig into my flesh.
My words were not approved by the ministry of truth
Their truth is not one that you or I see,
but a web woven so tight that we cannot see through.
In our greyscale world there is but one relief,
It is not love, -we share more air than love-
but rebellion against it all with our touch.
I may be controlled in what I can say, see and believe.
But tonight, our actions will rebel for us

We will be caught of course.
Everyone is, even the innocent.
Every word makes a (prison) sentence against us

I could go along with everyone
I could be the same
Conform, It's what they want.
They have already killed me.

I am going, to the ministry of love