Standing at a point of turn
A point of change, a pivot, a bend
Thinking this turn is, to the life, an amend
Brought upon you are the many authenticities
Aware of were you not sometime before, been awhile
Your shoulders already stooped.
Your back bent and hurt in various ways
Your soul ready to give way
What have you done to do away with yourself so soon?
Childhood was an implausible dream it seems
It was augmented a reality,
The life you led, far from even its trace
You see your beloveds crumble
Cringe, cry and contemplate
Ridding themselves of the mortal selves
entreating and crying on their knees before the one
While you behold, silently gulp sharp hurtful screams.
Enough said, nothing done
Here you find the urge to run.
Take flight, never return, to a place called eternal hell.