Unplug

 

I hear the hum of a thousand neon signs,
Screens flashing like sirens in my eyes,
Voices calling me —
Stay. Play. Forget.

The world spins faster,
Pleasures, phones, sports, parties —
A carousel of empty crowns,
A kingdom built on sand.

And for a minute,
I almost forget why I ever wanted out.

But then...
A whisper slices through the noise:

"I have chosen you out of the world — therefore the world hates you."
"The world loves its own." (give us Barabbas!)

Chosen.
Not chosen for fame,
Not chosen for followers,
Not chosen to chase shadows down endless streets.

Chosen... to leave.

To walk out of the glittering graveyard,
To leave behind everything that promised me life
But fed me slow poison in golden cups.

They call it living.
I call it dying with your eyes wide open.

The world says,
"Come, dance with us."
But I see the chains tucked behind their smiles.

And then I hear once again, that still small voice within,

And it says:
You weren’t built for cages.
You weren’t designed for their applause.
You were made to walk in the fire.
To live outside the simulation.
To stand in the Light they can’t understand.

So here I am:
Transformed into something new,

Here and there, with the wind that blew.

They’ll call me crazy.
They’ll call me lost.
They’ll call me everything except what I am:

Free!

Staying Connected To The Vine!

Tyrone