Out Of Control
You know who I am.

The sun sets on the horizon.
The crickets start to chirp.
You think they're talking to each other.
They chirp their warning.
You ignore it.

The fireflies flash their warning.
Pretty aren't they?
Yes, very pretty, because it doesn't matter.

And in the city,
where you hear no crickets,
see no fireflies.
The moth that flutters around the lights,
at night of course.

A natural attraction toward lights, right?
Yes, quite.
An attraction to the only thing,
that will allow you to see their warnings.

And when they bump their little heads against the glass?
An attempt to grab your limited attention.

They all try to warn you.
Warn you that I'm coming.

At night, while you sleep.
I enter your homes, your bodies,
your minds, your souls.

I slowly suck the life from you.
Drain you of your spirit.
Make you susceptible to depression,
loneliness, illness, fear,
and, shall we say, an early retirement.

I enter you.
Hide my presence with dreams.
Then leave you to feel the effects when you're awake.

I am you.
The part of you that you have yet to control.

You are warned.
But I am also the part of you,
that understands the warnings.

So continue on your merry way.

I'm enjoying being as out of your control as you are.
If you are not controlling you, then everything else is.