NUMBERS

You are not valued in this place.

You are merely a number in this game.

You will be reduced to something insignificant.

Your name will be forgotten.

You cannot leave.

You cannot escape.

As you witness your body transform,

you will be manipulated and reduced to just a number.

You are not and never have been important – you never were.

The flow of tainted air around you keeps your thoughts blurred.

That is all we are – numbers.

It is time for war – numbers.

We will all receive a number, a new name.

Soon, we will have no legs to run.

In this world, we are all prisoners,

with only programmed orders in our heads.

There will be no borders, race, faces,

sense of time or place, nor a sense of entitlement.

We are all equal and there will be no enlightenment.

 

I am a number.

You are a number.

We are all just mere numbers.

One, zero, zero, zero, one, one;

these living nightmares cannot be undone.

We are all just numbers.

You are here to satisfy the machine’s insatiable hunger.

You are just a fraction, being sliced through like butter.

We are utterly helpless here.

Every emotion has been taken from us, except for fear.

The only thing we are left with are terrifying

visions – ones we desperately try to make disappear.

They are the sole remnants of our existence in this place.

You must obey the orders given to you.

The instructions of our torture are permanently

ingrained into our minds,

searing without mercy – leaving behind any shred

of sanity – until nothing remains here.

If orders are not followed, they will be made crystal clear.

 

 

All that we will ever be are numbers.

The count of bodies is piling up as we are buried under,

struggling to catch our breath.

The weight is simply too overwhelming,

constricting our circulation and depriving our oxygen-starved lungs.

The sounds of suffering are resonating in the thunder.

The deadliest of hurricanes intend to pull us under.

We are beyond Category 5.

It is the epitome of a perfect storm;

intended to devour us alive.

We are incapable of rebuilding.

This maelstrom never dissipates.

We are all being assimilated into this vengeful machine,

with the goal of continuous recreation.

A perpetual replication of ourselves.

To this forsaken machine, we are just numbers,

left with only what it tells us to believe.

 

There is nothing left to hope for.

There is nothing left but grief.

You have now been entered into the system.

You have been toe-tagged with your number,

you no longer have a name.

You are scanned into the system as technology takes over your brain.

There is no escape; our heads hang low as we fixate on our screens.

Instant gratification is diminishing humanity.

Death would be too merciful – far too kind.

All of us possess numbers – we have been assigned.