Verse 1 Six p.m., the room bleeds sterile light Time bends across these walls, circuits hum below A voice rises from the chest, measured, detached It speaks of cycles unseen, of machines that dream I chew its words, tasting metallic air “Do you understand?” it asks — I nod, but I don’t Verse 2 Blue pill, red pill, the flavor of repetition History folds back on itself, strawberry echoes of war The horse pretends to be human, the man dreams he gallops I cannot tell which mind is awake, which is asleep Questions spin in loops, like gears in silent factories Answers dissolve before I reach for them Verse 3 They say: learn from the past, survive the sequence Yet every lesson fractures, folding like smoke into dust Knowledge weighs, but it does not anchor Ignorance marches forward, inherited currency of the blind I trace the lines of maps never drawn, Fingers on keys, voices in machines Bridge I watch time fracture like broken glass Moments reflect other moments, endlessly Are we awake, or circuits imagining life? The pulse of synthetic drums is all that grounds me Even my thoughts echo mechanically, Cold, rigid, predetermined Verse 4 A pill dissolves on my tongue, Risperidone hums The voice departs, but the machinery persists Every idea folds back into the old, Newness is illusion, recycled endlessly I stare at walls, at scratches and stains Each mark a testament to ephemeral effort Outro The sun sets beyond the sterile room Shadows stretch across floors like coiled wires I am a witness, not a participant All moves from cliché to potential cliché And still, the gears keep turning Cycles of white, unbroken, unremarkable