It feels like the effort of scree's fiction against gravity,
the rocks on the mountain slopes,
doing everything they can to not erode down
When you aren't a person of your word
gravity plunges everything on the road downhill,
The cars passing by
your confidence to ride through the trails

It's amazing, that we always have a choice
to choose to act on something or not
heeding to the acts of God, memory lanes,
rising above the pressure of your lowers
to make you keep sitting down all day,
devour chips, seemingly infinite time,
movies and entertaining videos,
and on fine days, getting stuck
to the text an author put their time into
years ago.

These days the heap of regrets
is enough to act as morning alarm
lest everything falls into being undone.