Relation Association

Hard-pressed for redemption,

The savior responds with greed,

My need is crushed by waves

Of illness rising like a snake in the abdomen,

Spreading into the pockets of love

To poison and dispatch.

This despondence endures.

We can dialogue for hours

Ending with the sour lies

That keeps my brain awake

In a state of shock and allure.

Oh, how these fabrications

Have overcome my elation

And swindled me into seclusion

Of my own vocation.

For I do admit I am an idealist,

So these lies I attend to,

I bend to my own satisfaction,

Because happiness is only

But a fraction of what I feel.

And the rest is merely a test

That time will authenticate.

It’s never too late to change.