Do you feel a mystery
as a rank recurring rhythm
that answers fail to question
what remains extant in time?
Does the pain building
felt in feeling, privately dreading
in the night shade coming
shake your slumber then?
This instinctive home sucks
and all and everything, mucks
by and large, by certain thought
when our own habits command.
Understanding it doesn't help
or I would feel no pain now.
Would somebody help correct
path to self, as battle, but serious?
rjd
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