The ink bleeds logic, dodging the toxic optics
Of a world that trades its soul for a profit in pockets
I’m watching the clock tick, every second a lesson
Converting my inner tension to a spiritual weapon
We’re chasing the ghost of a dream that was never ours
Trading the open meadow for these concrete towers
The power’s in the presence, not the digital essence
Stop scrolling through the fake and start feeling the blessings
I dissect the dialect of the quiet and stressed
Finding peace in the pieces of a heart that’s confessed
It’s a chess match, moving through the fog and the friction
Lifting the veil of every comfortable fiction
Gravity pulls on the body, but the spirit is weightless
Navigating a maze where the walls are all faceless
So I plant the seed deep in the soil of the mind
And leave the static of the status far behind
[Outro]
Just breathe
The truth doesn't need a megaphone
Stay grounded