Come, oh moment of discipline;
The star that gives birth to disaster and falls;
Sacrificed life of the slaughtered lamb;
The roar of the earth which broke away from its yoke.
Machine or man, manufactured or born, in the end we were created and used as tools. For data, for science, for work, for blood and influence and movement.
Who cares what you do or don't deserve? Life is unfair no matter what happens. You either reach for what you want, you wait for it to come closer, or you don't move at all. 'Deserving' has nothing to do with it.
If I could only lower my shoulders and tilt my head back, knowing that instead of a blade rushing to meet my neck, a tender word would nestle there instead.
You live in the weak. And so you thrive in me. At a moment you could rip me from this skin I live in and turn me inside-out so the soft velvet lining of me shows.