The Wicked

Like a pouring of the rain,
Drowns my life
Like this white walls
I am trapped.
I still can realize
But why do they cease me to think?
I have tried to write
But they cut my fingers off.
I still can think
I see the symbols of world creation
I have tried to speak
But why do they cut off my tongue?
Forever despair
Forever solitude
My guide — my pain
Why still I breathe?
White walls, on your eyes I’ve left my nails
Steel bars on window, how many teeth have I left for you?
Gray floor, my prison gate, I hate you
But you could not get my conscience away!
I saw the numbers you consisted of
I’d have told you to free me but my tongue…
I still feel weaker
I could open my mind, but society turned away
I fear everyone
'Cause I see what they are consisted of.
Now there’s no way out
Someday they’ll kill my conscience
But if I try to run
They may cut my legs off…