Flashbacks of Hamlet's Surveys 🇬🇧

What value holds life if deferred and not trully lived?
If you took and retained, but never actually gived?
In midst of pedantic polishing of ones foundation,
Thirst is fading for apt and true innovation.

Entrapped, in your mind, by cuffs of precious cloth,
Deep down, greed and fear are to blame for your sloth.
Inspiration and passion, the yearning to make,
Are withering soaked in familiar, yet fake.

Having kept roots from growing,
Not a scent of a blossom, landscape's scattered with mowings.
In dusk you'll wake hollow, with a face of another,
You won't hear a melody, only echoes will flutter.