A constant collision of thoughts, desires, and morals constantly pang my mind
Thrown into a void of nothingness I embark the desolate silence trying to find the illusive end
My hiatus of emotion enables me to visualise the black and white of life's simplistic complexity and unending paradoxes of corruption and malice
Atmosphere of sin and temptation is a manifestation of my inner thoughts weary of its containment
Who is the voice in my head if I am the one listening, therefore I'm not my thoughts then who am I
Despair
There is no proof that I exist
How do I know my mind would not just fabricating a reality I do not reside in or even exist
What if I'm a part of the unborn generation destined to save the world
What if I am the individual destined to destroy it
What if time expands both ways and as we progress in a future another reality regresses deteriorating and the only medium to cross worlds are dreams and death.
​