So much of my life remains the same, struggle, yearn, kick and bite, shout to the heavens, I hate life, alas, this life is mine, all that courses through here, the blood, the evil in my veins, still flows through, like the undercurrent, beneath a mountain, it still decides, much of what I do, although I am doomed to live with demons, temptation, questions, the night sky, and his energy, flowing through me, hovering over me, I am an extension, a hand that does his bidding, a puppet, simply a man, but there is hope, throughout it all, although it flows the same way, the ocean waves remain the same, and the strings that are pulled, still entice me to start dancing, but I’m telling you, there is hope, so many layers, negotiations, and handshakes, but there is hope, I’m telling you, I see it, the perspective is beginning to change, am I growing cold, the seven stages of grief, I used to be young, a virgin, the world was harsh, I grew scared, wanted to find my place, I followed love, all the good in the world, any whim and fancy, maybe I’m already dead, just a ghost, the spirit, flowing through this body, will the universe expand, let go, move on, and forget about me, may entropy claim me.

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