the slaves

We’re all slaves
of our professions,
possessions; masters,
slaves alike
all accursed. 

In bondage
of our habits, words,
of our fears, wars,
of what we see, hear,
taste, touch, and smell;
perpetually condemned
within the walls of
the manufactured hell,
our false universe. 

The heaven above,
the garden beneath,
lying in vain, unable
to deliver, make us breathe.

© supratik 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Attachment; to self and other. How can we free ourselves? Or is that price we pay for being human? Another thoughtful piece.

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