If I gave sanity equality, paved by an unstable nature, would Love participate?
We seem with joy, right? Nay, we seem with miseries, a crush on sorrows; those waves into battles, clutching insanity.
I rushed to end it. I paused to save it.
If a close friend, scrutiny & diamonds.
It never mattered. It meant so little. Souls walking longer roads.
I have loved the art of insanity. I was on a gray ship.
The flow was interrupted. Just because it could be.
Some stranger deciding my life.
It seems natural.
I tire of consciousness. I tire of the Great Chasm.
I tire of just about all things.
It seems messed up. A man worships with fervor. Same man grows in stature. To realize, he will never be close enough.
The chase is eternal. The arts are immortal. To die thrice in one heartbeat.
I suppose it’s rewarding, and I suppose it would have been, in essence, what it is, and I suppose it’s immortal, the rest of a lifespan.
