Race not the time of mellowed pretense,
Relief in the shade let it chase thy death within
What comes may come; let it come as it has many times before,
Worry you not for whatever comes may also very soon go.
Sink within those deep seas of self believe,
Masks make only greater enemies, let you be.
Sit and stand as allow your memories,
Be prepared to not be prepared, let all be.
Bask in the moments of your bitter tragedies,
Glory lies only in the most shaded crimes of need.
Find those spaces you must and let yourself go,
Reasons are hidden behind reasons of you and shades of old lore.
Lose yourself; drown yourself in rivers’ flowing feet,
Silence all those voices, fly away you from all that creeps.
Race not time for it holds true for none,
Find relief in the arbor of thy soul’s tree.