Grey Feet

Fire of life once held inside
Flickering dimly holding out to die
Clockwork held in place
Constant weight, sense of purpose decays
Haze of mediocrity and vain
Corrodes the will, forcing us down
Lacking another way
Never turning it around
Look through the centre of their eyes
Cycles of bland routine
Haze of mediocrity and vain
Pushing down in frozen miles
The looming fear, assured impending pain
Blinds us to the lies we hold inside