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