What egregious sin shackled us to sophistication?

 

The soul's eternal incarceration.

 

It is a gift?

 

To who do I return this gift to?

 

For a prolonged moribund life laced with misery is not what I wanted.

 

What be more graceful than to die a happy man?

 

What does sophistication offer us?

 

The ability to forge disparities? Commit crime? Or is it the poverty and violence?

 

This has cultured a distaste in my placement within this hierarchy.

 

My drooling mind fosters an immense envy of those crippled in this sense.

 

Not a day goes by when i wish i could live as carelessly as any other animal, even one plagued with ticks.

 

This glorified sophistication is the root of all evil.

 

Roots to the weeds in the garden of life.

 

With the only employed gardener, death.