Dilapidated versions for generations past to the new...

Time will always out weigh reason,

bringing inevitable change, despite, a person's hue...

Born with eyes, yet raised blind, they can't see the Matrix encoding...

For you see what they want you to see,

visualizing prosperity, equality and world peace unfolding...

I ask, why would they read if they can watch, why watch if they can listen...

They'll settle for any version of a story,

before they'd research or give a little attention...

Sold a dream, complacent beings, based off society selling them a lie...

yet they only blame the seller,

because they believe they're not responsible for what they buy...

I am Knowledge not encrypted, just locked away & imprisoned in a book,

desiring only intimacy with anybody smart or brave enough to look...

I'm losing to the newer generations, while my arch enemy runs amuk,

A battle of loss or gain, but sadly infamous to the brain...

Most people make him a person as they personify his name,

Although he can't be defined as much, he is ignorance with no shame...

I cry tears of ink, weeping for the newest of generations,

I am the language of the unheard, so to them I sound absurd...

I am only a mere book, so my companions, they leave me lonely,

Knowledge, a lonely book, I'll always be your one and only...