You can always be on the horizon but never reach the zenith
Worlds falling apart to a never ending saga of love and gore
Your hands outstretched to touch the tip of inspiration
But you fail, you fail!
Repeatedly, constantly, your mind buzzes with thoughts
You visualize dreams in your padded room but they never reach a form
Your asking for pain is not another source of emotion for your disgruntled life
You who lie there, quiet, enclosed, wrapped in your false existence
Wake up, get up, see the positrons flying around you
How can you like Eliot? How can you like Woolf?
They who wrote once are dead, their heaps of pity lay behind
Mind stop this ordeal, you are too young to delve so deeply
Death doesn’t deter, moments flash, zoom, zap, end!
Make the most of what you have, get up, hold the tip, Begin!