So is this an addiction, a crude misconception?
Mostly feeling the wind creased in the wrong direction.
What I thought I like, what they told me I was,
Now fades from the glimpses of eternity.
Fashioning a pedestal for a new tomorrow,
Blind but with faith I caress all this sorrow,
I bid you adieu, **** you, subdued.
No I am not in remorse, I cannot alter my force.
By the fact that the energy deranges like swollen entropy.
Can be acknowledged yet immaterial to intrigue.
Echoing the silence that for soothers to ring.
Loss of the false feel of psuedo-histrionic-apathy.