Prisoner Of Our Minds

Artem Stelmakh

Prisoner Of Our Minds

Nothing ever will be clear,

We don’t want to ever be,

In a forest of delay,

In a castle of dismay.

Hold a pen and close the eyes,

Uptight feeling just arrives.

None of us was ever right,

Do it, though it’s always tight.

Write all out from the fight,

Real as ever, that’s alright.

The worst feeling is pride,

Sober, conscious, stepped aside.

Just come over other night,

We can do it though, sometimes,

Feeling wrong and feeling right.

Gloomy weather – perfect sign,

There, always, we can stay,

Being away, conscious stray.

Fully mindless empty words,

Hurting sharply, just like swords.

Can we cope with our cells,

We’ve created ourselves?

If it’s hard for you to go,

Hold your ground after all.

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Artem Stelmakh

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