The Man With No Soul
There he goes,
Walking tall.
The man with no soul
No tangible thoughts
He just eats
And sleeps
Excretes
Breathes
A robot going through
Mundane exercise
After
Mundane exercise.
He has no empathy
No actual reality.
Death is his master
A skeleton’s finger
On the button
A scythe
Above his bed.
Does he know
Of the people
Inhabiting his world?
No.
They are imaginary
Illusionary
And elusive
Ghosts in the wind
Dust in his mind.
So he walks tall
And he talks big
And no one knows
Of his lack of a soul.
Walking tall.
The man with no soul
No tangible thoughts
He just eats
And sleeps
Excretes
Breathes
A robot going through
Mundane exercise
After
Mundane exercise.
He has no empathy
No actual reality.
Death is his master
A skeleton’s finger
On the button
A scythe
Above his bed.
Does he know
Of the people
Inhabiting his world?
No.
They are imaginary
Illusionary
And elusive
Ghosts in the wind
Dust in his mind.
So he walks tall
And he talks big
And no one knows
Of his lack of a soul.