The inner fabric of our mind
consumed with derelict and waste.
What energy is spent-what cost to fuel such putrid hate?
The walls we build to save our soul;
the light is blocked the darkness grows.
The world at war-it seems so nonchalant.
Like habits formed-the ease at which it taunts.
The dance repeats-each partner wants to lead,
till circles worn in fabric at our feet.