In flux a place in space
it moves only forward
up and over it grows so
ever now to me toward.
I will live to climb but I,
so rustic my limbs old,
carefully step my steps;
there’s traps so I go slow.
Fractured cinder blocks
they supported to sustain
past hurt inside nature;
now I may be just insane.
The climb so long I now
remember the ground I
left so long ago so I try
forget such a hard climb.
I need sustenance I need
structure lost in floating
from here to there in lofty
haze I had been smoking.
Is reality really that hard
for to call for my escape?
Yes my heart does feel
while my mind it debates.
There’s the torturous rail
that I cling to in pure hate
that in another’s soul I do
find consumes to permeate.
The void of despair it does
confuse and tests a nerve.
None get penitance here,
none get what is deserved.
So I’ll release my tension
breathing fire in my lungs.
That will move over teeth
and seep over my tounge.
For life so pure is meant
to live not in pain’s grip
or torn flesh ripped apart
by cruelty by life’s whip.
I shall climb past what my
experience has proven raw.
That bore into my bones I
use once more not to fall.
