Stripped of my emotions
anesthetized, amputated,
cauterized and cleaned.
Wrapped in clean white linens,
mummified it seems.
Protected from sensations,
my memory erased.
Antiseptic, empty,
a clean slate is all that's left.
New equations and computations
form this program that you write.
If your work was to be graded
you would have failed to pass this test,
for with the removal of all pain
you've rendered pleasure just a name.
With nothing to compare it to
it all is just the same.
With no definition
we might as well not play the game.
Because...
Without a game there is no winner.
Without a loser there is no pain.
Without pain there is no pleasure.
Without pleasure it's all the same.
We might as well shut off the lights,
because no one is at home.