By Merlit
Your mind is on your work
There is no denying the feelings
Of death upon us
Surrounding us three by one
Choking the life from us
With no mercy
Like a boa constictor slowly
But surely wrapping around
Its prey with a
Slight energetic motion sucking the life away
Without a chance to pay
A glance of admiration to the sun
As if having to much to think
About as you infinitely crawl to your destiny
Hoping to becom famous one day
Just to fly to the top of the charts
On the stock market when you die.