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Deny the curves of life and you'll blame all.
Intrinsic lines are set to break apart.
Inputs can only control so much.
One must not deny predestination.

Gone and under the earth,
be it a person or a bond,
I'm coughing into cushions
yet denying an affliction.

Shaking to feel fatigue, all are starved.

Don't wake them, they are dreaming.

Trying to walk in a straight line while blinded and jaded, misdirected,
looking back at the path I have walked and I see how far I've gone.
I have not failed myself,
yet I feel as though I yearn for a signal of fault by my hands.
Life is a system -- paths may cross, yet
one must not try to change what has and always will be the resultant
structure of consciousness. But, this does not mean that we won't
see rebuttal.

I've seen gods,
I've seen queens,
hang their heads
from disease.

Offer light,
offer glow,
offer light,
offer them
one last rose.

One last.

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