We live in an endless cycle of desperation
like a black hole, it swallows everything past the event horizon.
We work ourselves until the sharp aches reach all fifty-six phalanges
and the calendar no longer keeps track of the days.
There is a calm between the sequence that is soon devoured by ravenous vultures
that feed on monetary misfortunes.
We struggle and we survive: adapt and overcome.
Destruction has built my foundation and destruction will build my castle.
YOU ARE READING
Embody Me
PoetryA series of emotional poems that aim to make your soul feel something.
