'Jacked' To The Core

With every thought like some prayer,
unknown to initiates or even myself.
We've cast our spells out everywhere,
like prepackaged drama off the shelf.

Consensual agreement's conformity,
perpetuate these illusions reasonably.
Points of view shared in our deformity
uphold a safety net of it's predictability.

I can't own one thought devoid logos,
of the corporate icon 'sigils' implanted.
Every desire supplanted to other goals,
with my verboten suggestion chanted.

Some meta-program runs through-out,
with backdoors etched in rampant hack.
Control is the game rally of silent shout,
mind is wet-ware grist of 'hammer-jack'!

TBollinger