A continuous concord of concurring events.
Draining me of my relevant reoccurring drowsiness.
I wake up in the same bed,
Twisting and yearning for the day it'll all end.
Waiting for the repeat of this tremendous cycle that cyclones with no remorse for the living or dead.
But at least the deceased have a grave for them to rest.
Meanwhile I'm stuck here trying to live in my head.
I share a room with two voices both mutilated and demented from the cemented walls I've put up to defend.
Those who claim they know the secrets to an ally cats fight.
Will surely know the secrets to how I end my flight.
By derailing this inconclusive inconvenienced inclosable train.
To a sanctuary I can never find so instead I submerge in my pain.