I feel nurtured in a way that every wake I shall risen to pretenses of galls

In your eyes expose the mind of a hypnotized blindness

Listen to the suspense listen to the music in which tell you something’s coming

Playing with your mind in an open space in the confines of a small place

Loop rewind play, walk a different path and laugh at the broken bridged gaps

Feel the rhythm of disturbed strings dragged.

I have become the victim of your screeching

I am the piece of something that visits the correlation of a masterpiece

Play the barren sound to an open source brainwave suffer the weak buffered truth

Feel the eardrum ring hand out a scorched twisted tongue tired of talking about nothing

Tolerate the dependence of a derelict falsified significance relating to the complexion beneath

You get what you see.  But some things change miraculously.