Hunt of the Humans

The windowsill, balance of reality and fiction
The walls barricade three dimensional dimentia
Demographics undeniable
Freeze-frame society blurs backward into the future
No one feels 'till it's too late
Understandings stripped away
Confused I stumble falling
Impenetrable, the pain surrounds me
Lapsing in and out of reason
Beyond the only reality
The past is slowly dying
Stronger than yesterday
Weaker than tomorrow
I think and try to rationalize all of this
Tomorrow scares and thrills me
But tomorrow just seems to mystify
Analytical and conscious
Regrouping, correct direction identified
Struggle and realize no one's spared