Made naked

Your personality may be stripped of you
As if you were not better than a dying begger
That another unfortunate would seek warmth
in the rags that had housed your dying body

Your beliefs could be stripped like rock from gold
But you are not the gold

Your personality could be eviscerated
Life itself has no conscience and moves us like sheep
Your beliefs are shorn and you are sent back cold into the field
Following the herd on some ridiculous whim

The sun laughs loudly on the cloudless day
As a man born to be like a god is not more than a self pitying animal
A tool, a resource, a mechanism for toying hands above to play with
Identifying with the lights and swirls of technology

Enticed and hypnotized unknowing of himself
Placed in this world with an ample handful of dizziness
To guide him into conformity and ply his amazing mind
To not imagine or fantasize or take the alternative route

Your convictions are an internal joke that on death will be hilarious
They are the concrete you eat
The cage you lock yourself into
The collor you put on your own neck

You will be made naked
And your humiliation will only be meaningful to you
As your anger toward some human notion of God grows
The clear laughing days will taunt you and play
as you live every single one as if it were grey