Veins begin to flow, the flow the same as the morrow gone.
Each part knowing its place as if by magic and yet walking in sleep, each part seems.
Vibration rises as pace quickens now. What functioned adequate at start, now stifling and choking, tension and stress the result.
The risen Sun’s rays struggling now to hit their mark. For this Life’s result poisonous and thick, as the rate and pressure increases each new day.
Driven by the hypnotised pursuit of vapour when considered all, nothing ever real the result. Life stolen by deceit it seems.
Yet in spite of unimaginable price paid each day, still this life continues to consume all before. For it has no consideration for the individuals trapped inside.
The by-product of this day as Sun gently begins to wane?
That of consumption and toxic all that seems to remain. For today just a copy of before, no different has been.
All now retiring, the Suns’ grip on the day releasing, this Life now begins to rest. But only after morn’s choking pattern repeated, ready to draw first breath again in the morn.
And the real price paid as this life continues each day?
Impossible to measure, so life threatening is this game.
Yet freely given or taken it is without by most, for it seems to be for the chase of only smoke at best. So close yet always so far away, controlled by others, this hollow victory remains.
And then the Sun starts to rise again and again.
Coming soon to a city near you.