Want,
Need,
At what point does one concede?
At the bellowed taunt of another?
The deep cutting prose of a brother?
Whence temptation tantalize your nose?
Until the yellowed rot of ones tongue?
Perhaps upon the cliffs of a panic,
Worries and anxiety slung high on your manic Shoulders,
Breaching the oft crossed line again and again,
Does the line hold with ones shadow?
Or woefully watch on,
Anchored to that genesis strife.
I ask thee please,
At what point does one concede?