October 17, 2017
Set foot inside this labyrinth from which some seldom return.
Wondering through these concrete sculpted hedges, laced with steel thorns.
Mentally foreign to a serene reality.
Programmed by an itinerary that permits you to roam like zombies.
In this desolate place the heart can become rotten.
It spoils over time.
Draining the soul and testing the faith.
Replacing parts of the soul with an anger that devours the vessel like a cancer.
Your antibodies no longer rejecting your insanity,
you become a self-created public image, a prisoner of illusion.
Your thought process is no longer organic but a generic processed imitation.
Packaged on an assembly line by the masses,
a product of commercial influence.
Sealed, signed, and delivered.
Where cowards become killas, and true killas become wise teachers.
Head up, eyes everywhere.
Watch but don’t stare.
Listen but don’t hustle.
The memory lies behind the eyes and adapting can lead to amnesia,
making the memory lie.
Forced metamorphose into multiple characters throughout the day.
Man is unaware that he is just surviving,
and has given up on the blessing of living.
// Daniel "Chief" R. Tedford is a contributor to The Periphery.