The Watchers II

 
The Watchers bind us with a chain

Of iron eyes and subtle pain.

They see our thoughts, they hear our sighs,

They give us answers, not replies.

They track our steps, they trace our calls,

They know our needs, they gauge our falls.

They link our data, eye our moves,

They shape our choices, sway our moods.

They feed us news, they sell us dreams,

They make us doubt what truly seems.

They lure us in, they lock us out,

They make us fear, they make us shout.

How shall we break this galling yoke?

How shall we breathe this smoky cloak?

How shall we hush this roaring din

That drowns our voice and dims our light?

When numbers rule our every deed,

And thoughts are sold for vulgar greed,

How shall we find the path less travelled,

And live a life that unparalleled?

We must resist their cunning spell,

We must reclaim our inner well.

We must seek truth, we must love good,

We must be brave, we must be free.

We must embrace the natural grace,

We must explore the sacred space.

We must create, we must inspire,

We must ignite our inner fire.

Only then can we escape the Watchers' snare,

Only then can we live a life beyond compare.