Imbalance
Sitting within the four walls,
like a flower that newly budded,
I reminisce on the thoughts of
happiness.
How unachievable it was, the
thoughts
Like heaven's fallen angel,
this life was a similar
caliber.
Striking me down with
each annually blown candle,
goodbye to the thoughts
Flesh and bone
deteriorate,
senses wiped from the mind.
Love swept from existence.
"These will clear your mind."
They echoed, the words, with every swallow.
1, 2, 3 a day.
Thoughts, what are those?
This mind belongs to medicine.
Marked is the skin permanently.
20 swallows in five minutes;
Swallow, Swallow, Swallow, Done.