Me against the world

I’ve grown tired and weary of this endless tussle.
This madness over traded notes, titles and roles.
I’ve shrunk from the expectations you heaved on top of me,
blocking your senses to all but the reals you wish to hear.
You are the world stage guised as heaven and I expect too much so you plunder at will.
While I demand goals just to feel satisfied,
you expect a cut of dreamy wonders in return.
I’m your circus master and you are my weekend acts,
yet I leave my quarters open to you and wallow in your cage for life.
My heart and a troubled mind are my weaknesses and your slave.
You are Gaia and I am man,
You can judge and I will act.
You will watch me become my own executioner,
live away the pain of my empty existence,
never numb of my nostalgia.

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