Bones hollow
Like the heart that keeps them moving

A path lacking
Lost to sands of uncertainty

The journey must go on
Until finality finds it's way

The journey must go on
Until I fade away

Unwell. Or am I?
Who's to say the past is done,
When I clean puncture wounds,
Dawn to dusk, of detritus?

Unwell. Or am I?
Who's confused and who's knowing?

Unwell. Or am I?

Merging verses, moving tiles.
Twisted memories play pretty.
Every tangent plays at once.

Who moves when I move?
Convergence hurts us all.