Born

When he had wanted the wake of death by his side an early childhood a gift to wonder but he had chosen the prerequisite of a soul edd self, how many dreamless nights passed by with a thought that was a erratic regular rectegular shape formed from an early age and now he has lived it time and time again. Many times i hadnt seen a meaning in this air am breathing but death, yes death holds the pearls in its mouth waiting to find the permanents of its shine, it made a trail with more sense then the hate swirling from the pores of the working man, many a time attempts were incoherent but thats were meaning sold me peace, i can not with all my attempts of living, reach the texture of a terrain that yelds peace in the mindness of the neighbour thats filled with execrate passion of fruitless circles with a blend of nothing which therefore has no substanse, there was never a chair beneath me, was i born in a hang state that had a disillusion status of the mind that was feed, the young me has been stuck for such a long time, find meaning somewhere else but were because here i am stuck in this world, were words relive no matter the subject