Lost, jaded, a thirst for righteousness
Although at times drinking water that’s tainted.
Which direction is perfection, if perfection even exists.
The middle of blue lit room
Encircling the fumes of success and passion
Outside windows become targets for a probable ambition,
Scarface is sufficient only if I leave behind greed for the sake of my mission.
Missing signs or premature thoughts?
Which path paves pain out the picture
None that I’ve known, unfamiliar grounds. This far away from home is
Where charcter is made.
Only if the hands weren’t broken,
Only if it all slowed down.
Only that wouldn’t be life,
This would be irrelevant, yet it is Irresistible to think of such dreams.