Found my name on the page of an open book.
My author speaks to ink
the atmosphere of “how could you?”
I wish I could break through.
So dreadful dead indulgence said
I’ll kill you in the end.
Dreadful dead indulgence sells
your name for dividend.
Chemical Enlightenment, history
can’t you see sinking self esteem descend
into the waves of my demise?
Where weaknesses face a floating ego,
where nobody seems to see-
where nobody seems to see me sinking
in a sea of my convictions.
In desperate need of guidance
greater than my vision,
greater than my mission.
I am trapped on the page of an open book.
I wish I could break through.
My burdens become bigger than the world
which values my point of view.
