Ascending, neverending, tack whoa. saviors.
Ascending,
blending in to the environment,
I think I will retire when my thinkings reached enlightenment,
writing and deciding when I find it and had enough,
feel my mind is like a diamond but its slightly to rough,
times tough, every morning I wake up and then recall,
who I was and when I talk, say what I must not what I want,
may be trusted all in all but in constant decline and depressed,
they put my nauseous mind to the test,
when far down the line can I rest, this stress is killing me slowly,
willingly unknowing of the thrills I seek my soul in,
still I feed a role and Im fumbling with blindfolds,
and will I ever know if Im running with eyes closed,
Neverending,
chasing addictions made up like fiction,
endangered compositions face my insane heart inflictions
enslaved, out of context its nothing but nonsense,
discarded involvement since my talk is dissolving,
Im walking but my feet are bleeding, constantly intriguing,
vie been wanting to believe Im free but thoughts can be deceiving,
i can see it, blind, screaming, i can feel it, skys the ceiling,
i can dream my mind is leaning on my task that bite my tail,
and i go faster, life derails becomes disasters while I fade,
in contrast to what I make I run backwards night and day,
dumb answers, silent prays, loud chanters, mind games.