The servant
The door bangs once The door bangs twice Bangs a third time The phone rings. Yes, I’m home. I lay in bed in a dizzying spell of darkness too sensitive to light and sound. Each bang sending thousands of little shivers down my spine. Doubt and fear creeps in your mind. You called me son But only when I don’t speak my thoughts or express my wants and desires. What’s the matter now? Just throw more money at him. That’ll fix it. Constantly being shuffled into one of your systems or formulas where creativity is so far removed. I realize now, I’ll never have the freedom to live the life I want. You won’t allow it. And every step, there is still a question of my loyalty. I may be a great human but human, still am I. An aching head compares not to a broken heart. To teach you to see another’s perspective other than your own will be a job well done. To rely on your fear and insecurities look up, ascension has begun.