[UnbornBuddha]

Wondering if I’m related to God genetically
For I can’t identify my blood’s ancestral tree
All I can recall now is this song of memories
Its orchestral reminisce has become my energy
As I watch moments in time rob us endlessly
Of everything we thought an eternity
How can you love a dependency?
That keeps us distraught symmetrically
Misshapen because we’ve touched excessively
Grief wise, I’ve drowned my lungs in Hennessey
Trying to cough up my spirit’s flaws successively.
Recovery meant I had to let go of this planet
The representation of the vessel of my sadness
Sacrifice is forever enigmatic, its message is nomadic
Traveling into our reach, until we forget it wasn’t imagined
The perfection of our patterns came in essence from our madness
Though, we think we’re safe because the infection is inactive
Pardon, the revert to biomedical language
I guess I myself too, am wrapped in a metaphorical blanket.
An emotional latching of anything that is comforting
Otherwise, without our crazy family stories this galaxy boring
We need an Amityville horror to put our phantoms in order
Until, even our sexual passions are sorted, fantasy portals…
We swore to be the best, but instead we became average in our quotas
The heavy anchor that have hold us is the adages that we know of
The force used our soul to acknowledge the statuses of these Yoda’s
It’s no mystery how we became the model drunkard, non-stoic lovers.
Our circles of friends watching as we slowly lose our motor function
Their encouragement isn’t to reach a sober junction
But, instead to keep downing this corona six packs
Until, my own omens become so afraid of my self-destruction’s impact
They choose to leave without invoking the holy syntax.
One’s choices in life dictate the photogenic damage
Aging and its marks leave a beautiful poetic anguish
That can be read if you can interpret its magic. It’s every aspect.