Sometimes Bombs Fall Quietly

If you're wondering where I am, look where I've been. Attempting to collect my thoughts, I end up walking around aimlessly; only to feed on the fantasy of my night's dream. You can gaze into my eyes, but you'll see, I'm long gone.
We dance to the monotone music in the same rhythmic pattern society has forced us upon. Left, Right, Left, Turn. No spontaneity, our souls will soon fade away; as we go through the motions, our bodies become a lifeless form.
You can present a solution: but know this dance is killing me. We are deserving of a tango, instead of a waltz, but as soon as you learn the steps, the pattern will repeat.
My solution: either stop dancing and enjoy the walk or left, right, left, turn.

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