Of Toil, And Promnesia

I wake up, I sigh, dismayed

Another day to pour it all down the drain

I lie down, I've long lost count

Of all the years that feel like yesterday

There is a void behind my sunken eyes

Blurred thoughts of my passions

And of my dreams far beyond the event horizon

The soul shredder, the great unmaker

Of all that I could become

To be a cog in an ouroboric death-machine

The latest update is to eat

The ones that make it function

Ravenous hunger rips all asunder

Write-off the ghosts as a necessary sacrifice

No qualms with the concept of failure

No cries for the absence of silver spoons

This adversity is a recurring itch

I've long scratched to a gaping wound

Of toil and promnesia is another day

We're forced to throw away

One more defeat to rinse and repeat

For the scraps we've been tossed

Have been given on loan

Is this all there is?

I keep searching for greener pastures

There can't only be desolation

Where is the pay-off

The fruit of my labor

Perpetuation of desperation

One step forward, a thousand back

The fucking stress of it all

Gives me a heart attack

My grey matter's oil

Now light it aflame

The corporate combustion engulfing my brain

I've long been at end of my shortened rope

So kick out the chair

Because I'm all out of hope

I'm all out of hope

Of toil and promnesia is another day

We're forced to throw away

One more defeat to rinse and repeat

As we work to the bone digging our eternal home