I have been here before.
I’m so tired of spinning.
Running this race with no way of winning.
My fate is Three plus Six.
Faking my death, to live a real Life.
Each future I grow wise with the past.
My purpose lost in transition.
My mental growth stunted by man-made chemicals.
Water, Food all used as traps.
Even sleep seems to be the Enemy.
Broken smiles, they are not who they pretend to be.
Faces full of everything but the truth. My end begins anew.
My fate is seven plus two.
I fold time even and neat.
Reattaching to the spectral essence.
I am complete.
©R. Marrs 2014.