Brainless

I do not know if I'm in,
on the highway of life lost?
Mornings always change
racking, more and more difficult
is waking up.
The crowd is a herd of
the lost, where is the army
road knights?
The spirit is melancholic,
too lazy servant.
Where is the power of vivid,
where the anchor of joy patina.
Anger bitterness they do not
should be for us a new future.
I would like to be a brainless,
It can be found from the cloakroom
which is hidden in my brain?