Driving along the highway;
Kilometer by kilometer,
Never ending.
It’s a trap of the senses.
Numbing the ability to decipher realities code,
Turning us away from reason.
Struggling to connect the dots of life.
Every step seems to be a step in another direction.
Not backwards,
Left or right perhaps?
Diagonal doesn’t appear to be absurd anymore.
It’s most likely that it’s not even a direction at all,
But a series.
Feeling the pull,
Dragging with chains of fire,
Melting the certainty of actuality.
