There will be no event on the horizon
But a grueling decline we writhe in
Unholy poverty
The meek consumed by the sea
If I appear to be in pain
It's just the way that I'm dancing
Some sacred scarcity
A strawman turns to scarecrow
We strive to find the way
As we try to define we stray
I can do nothing
But give myself up to the ghost
I'm giving up on giving up
I'm flirting with the fear
The need to seek meaning
Leads me away from here
Self serving machine with some
False sense of purpose
Infinite jest in this
Quest for permanence
Let me Let go
I know I'll never know
A little death in every breath
A riddle which can never be solved
A looming shadow
Acting on it's own
Attempts to take control
Rather than understand
As above so below
We must submit to the