This humour of mine seems to oscillate
As a result of all these broken layers of thought
A rightful exercise of mind should be the answer
Or should it?
It feels as though a bright light is shining
and has been left hanging in the ceiling
Leading me to the opposite direction I should be heading
That is why silence comes so beckoning
And the admiration so profound
And when I begin losing all hope
That is when
My head keeps moving forward
While my feet are soiled to the ground