As the ocean its never fully known,
Questions still dont have a home.
In a rut, nothing but horrible luck.
There is so much more to trudge.
Piled on the back, waiting for the crack.
So much weighing down, gravity it drowns.
Ten times the mass, something that can't surpass.
Sights set on the past.
Never fully grown, more potential to be loaned.
Made from a fault, constructed of a heart.
Nothing of the mind is left,
Only the settling of dust.
Deep in thought, no sound brought.
Keep up with sight, more or less with might.
Stuck on a tragedy looking for a remedy.
Coming up with empty hands.
Everyone is a casualty, anything of history.
Looking back now there is chemistry,
Anything but productivity.
Lost in time, thinking about the possibility.
These thoughts are shot,
Mind burnt out, blacked out.
Tied in absolute knots.
All of these deep thoughts.
Will cause all of the rot.