Lost in emotion
enraptured by passion.

Seizing a notion,
after form of fashion.

After an insight,
passed long before.

Maybe a rite,
forgotten is core.

Contrite flee,
score are rotten.

Slight across slur
for entertains cast.

Potion flails greasing
tension form is master.

Motion slickly engrossed,
Secession left mind across.

Tag I'm it
Can I go any more

I search my self
And down to the core

Could it be need
Or could it be a bust

Or maybe I need
Simply shake off the rust

Lost in the mind
I need a map

Or maybe I simply
Need a nap

The dust shaken off
My voice is cleared

A small little cough
All mental smears