Clinging upon a fevered momentum of reality
I was conversed into vomiting the graves of others
wishes. I buried them in silence but they vocalized
every shovel of my buring empathy, I didn't care!

I crawled on emotion but mine never decomposed on
the reflections that faded with there's. I hit the hilt
of my constitution and obscured their voice on mine.
I was an illusion of there creation, illusion of verse.

*"Less creation of verse is a motion of my creation,