It goes round and round
Dies, rottens, disappears
But then reborns
Emerging from ghostly shadows
Mystical morphogenesis
From a tiny dried blood drop
At the bottom of a dark cave
It is a mental theft
A consciousness rape
And yet, an endless space
To be occupied
When only infinity can truly fit me
Whereas everywhere else
Is so tight and shallow
There is nowhere else to be
I don’t really wanna go anywhere
This is the untold side of the story
Dis-scrambled, a-poetic truth
I contemplate this esoteric composition
An infatuation, a stressor, a trigger
Control shortening meager
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