A glass lays on the counter

Half full, half empty

Half smashed. Milk stains the shards.

Glistening and murky.

Pernicious and no one would know

Until they try to clean it up

And it stays.

In every possible way.

The smell, the taste, the splinters

A part of you forever.

Much like a book

Lingering ideas, beliefs, knowledge

That follows you

Watches you

Omniscient, omnipotent,

Superior. A couple of words

Are worth more than you ever will be.

You are simply a propeller

To his reign.

Like a wheel

Turning and working and

Slaving away.

Running circles round your head.

Distortion and confusion.

The light you follow

Just brings you round.

And round.

Invisible is the rider

But they are there, yes

Or else you wouldn't be spinning

Faithful follower