Stress
Unessesary pressure, lives upon your soul sabjugating
It captures, holds your civilized nature
Like parasite that feeds on its victim;
The stress makes you forget yourself
And in the mirror it’s not you
That looks at you from depths forgotten
Your face is numb, dark, with pale smile, filled with distasteful apathy
Gazing like a ghost from its comfortable grave.
But for a moment you think you are living
But that illusion is the end,
You just exist in your false safety
Without thrill, without pleasure,
Just like a shadow on the busy streets.
