Anxiety at its best.
Body quivers, legs could never rest.
Odd beats echoing out of my chest.
Slowly dying of distress.
Constantly wanting more, always ending up with less.
Nefarious conscience picking at the brain beginning to obsess.
Thought we could deflect such ammunition but it pierced right through the vest.
Time repeats itself but when will time just be suppressed.
Trapped inside of a still frame, a never ending test.
Over thinking has become an infinite quest;
But we continuously strive to survive in this perpetual mess.
By: Dayne M. Rohn
