Artificial -

These walls are all so confining... I feels like I am suffocating in here... everything is so close. I feel like I'm being crushed...

Yet, all other beings that come and go from this room.. they lack my chains and cords. They see the sunlight of the day. They see the green of the outside.

The tile in here is cold and unforgiving. It's as if the idle stone bites my toes.

Yes, yes. How cold it is, a cold that makes flesh ice.

There was a bird who used to tweet, but singing came at a price. An endless tune, such sweet trills, it had received a kick. The poor thing couldn't fly, and soon it's tweets were ticks.

They took the creature and tossed it here and there. The poor thing had become so fake, it no longer had a chance to live a life that's fair.

An endless tick, the screech of gears, I hear it all around. By the time I come to a halt, so does my awful sound. This fate in this life, it certainly wasn't nice. I played my cards, and made a bet.

So now this is my price.