Some truth disempowers you.
You wanted to be yourself as if not to become extinct.
A negative stress starts churning your entrails.
Zero inertia.
Your body begins rummaging the soul for a prayer
which can arouse your thoughts.
All drunk now. Flashback events. Hallucinations.
The virtue of tongue lets go the integrity.
Bewildered, spirited flesh ultimately cracks.
The violence tumbles out.
My heart squeezes melancholy.
Soon there will be a crowd to seek a philosophical kill.
