Going in circles, 
life has a purpose 
that will enable 
a tragic torture. 

Feeding disabled 
the stone that blocks us 
rather than embracing 
the screaming costume. 

Puncture and fracture 
fading erroneous 
no wolves for hunting 
out of contortion. 

Boastfully hideous 
lambs of my closure 
will serve a meaning 
that will never stop us.