The Matrix is opaque and dissonant, like neon in fog.
Cluttered with the filler materials of our lives, it weighs us down in
the density, clipping our wings, holding us captive in its web.
The Matrix is limited and confining, painting us into its grids of sameness: masked bandits in a hall of mirrors.
Loud and cacophonous, the Matrix tears at our inner and outer
worlds with the noise of chaotic frenzy—
banging the drum, sounding the horn.
It is the superfluous impulse of demand and desire,
the prison of those who cannot see the light.
Dark and determined, the Matrix exists to enclose our minds
in a cage, in a cube, in a box, in a corner—
crouched in cells of our own making, where fear
is the gatekeeper and trust is but a memory.
Beyond the Matrix is the Light.
It is clear; it is pure; it is the unchained melody.
It is the breeze upon which souls take flight.
It is the day, the eternal warmth of the sun.
It is the wonder of a cool, moonlit night.
It is a place of truth: the search, the Wisdom;
a cosmic dance; the magic kingdom.
Beyond the Matrix lies the hope
and the dream;
it is the dream that keeps us alive.
It is the dream. The dream. The dream.
– Patricia Cori, 2010