Lift of the ground, weightless ready to compete, lifeless cycle- I repeat. From, my emotions I never shy to retreat. Covey the light In a blinding truth, Ive got layers deep then, what’s at a hollow core. The drought. Throat is dry, and I’ve said it far too many times. It’s these moments that keep playing through some more vivid then others. The mind is a minefield of deceptions. Keep the joystick up push forward, and play the game. No more retreating. The fate is unknown, and the stakes are high. No bars, no limits. We’re going out on town tonight. The elixir drowns the lover quicker, In the lonely night. She could’ve seen the bright lights. Exploding on impact, cold reality. The facts catch you in the end. Play it cool, play it right. Set the Jets, take off-flying. Angels crying, no one to clean the street, spoiled meat, rots. Cold on the curbs of the divide. Failing systems of the inhuman pastimes, continued crimes. Shaman of the desert, lunar eclipse into the day I started to stop dreaming, start again and continue. Now it threw, and here I stand sitting through the wind of a organism that weaves through the thread of time. Well, dressed sharp for the final showdown, paint in the mask for the clown changes his face. The weight floats on back to ones shoulder. Until the next winds pass on through. I drift on through the infinite days of existence. Unraveled at the seems, watch as it’s all been laid out, once before. This Is one of many threads.