In Affect

Tired conversations with myself, mesh of voices echoing
Recurring patterns of declining thought
An empty stare, a wandering mind

Slave to a rampant pathos, the laments of a weary soul
Unbound in pursuit to structure the intangible
I am the gravelike silence
I am the product of this white noise creation

Could never attune to distorted visions
An admission of the outcast, the consummate offense
I see myself drawn to fire as on film
I am the spectator of my own downfall

Searched and scoured rituals and empty deeds
In spite of my attempts, each vision is one of exit signs

No wordly comfort can rest the most active of minds