Run

Run to the countrysides, the cities are burning
The hands of the devil are deeply stirring
The cauldron of cosmopolitan centres that are busy yearning
For wealth unreachable, for happiness in a never-ending pursuit
Who built these cities, these virtual cages?
Who built these companies, these slave driving CEOs…
What happened to the fresh air, the endless fields,
why do we cling to these dirty polluted cities
when there are lush lands left empty
we were farmers, fishermen, hunters
now the corporations deny us our rights
and we are locked in grey boxes they call offices
wear tie-like nooses stating our supposed statuses
What milk and honey does the cities tempt us with
To make us leave the life we left behind
Is it the paper they print for us
That tells us what metal car we can buy
Or maybe the latest rags
Is this what our hard sweat is worth?
Years in the cages for paper
Weren’t we warned that this was all a show?
That all our clocks are ticking
The earth’s days are numbered, our days are numbered.
Yet the dunya is an old ugly woman who piles on the make-up
And we stumble in drunk with youth and fall in love with her synthetic drab
When will we wake up and see her for who she is
A temporary diversion from the path we were living
The true path, the purity, the simple path of submission.

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Still on the break, wrote this wondering how we came to this mess. Sometimes I think we've gone back a step. Is this freedom, is this the way man was made to exist?