Futility in Hope, aka Freedom is Illusion

I toil and work for future and for gold
but the things i see are not really there
they are illusion sent to keep me clear
of true release to wild and open fold
I do not see, but once a glance through mold
in heinous cage so built to lie and sear
into my mind the things I just not fear
but fear the things I mustn’t, and those are old
or new and strange, just sit, just sit and work
do not look out, do not look there, but fools
and evil men and beasts walk off the line
yet even they are not free as they look
they are but toys, puppets on many spools
building fictions, by force, that I so pine

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