Forced onto a worldly stage, under control of an angry lair
Life becomes a game, the rules are a poor shadow of fair.
Living without ever having been born
Guided by two who also have been torn.

Unable to flee, no where to duck out of sight
Forever seen in the darkness, and unable to seek any light.
Dead without ever having life
Borne upon wings of strife.

Eyes that must remain blind, allowing the mind to see no thing
The soul bears the burden, screaming in a vain attempt to sing.
Outside of all things of existance
Bound by the lack of resistance.

Tell me the answer to my rhyming tale
Can you give a name where I fail?
Think for na'er to long
Lest you miss the rythm within my song.

 Just something that popped into my head, listening to the radio...