Bounds upper and lower,
a desert in between,
Nothing but particle powder,
drought cacti are weeping, unseen.

Every decision wrong,
their screams crying,
a rocky dagger so long,
painful gashes - dying.

There's no competition to play,
only emotions tearing,
There's no winner in the way,
nothing blaring.

Futile. Pointless.
Why should I excavate for this mess?
We can't even cry properly
let alone work against it latterly.

Every moment is an unsteady breath,
security weak with the futile guest,
Every step a cautious move -
who knows what'll happen next.

Anger, fury, they grow deep red -
the guest roars beastly ahead.
I can't keep a timid timbre soft,
when blood drips from his livid loft.

A single constant spins around,
my head collapses against the repetition,
like a scent stuck with a hound
I'm trapped.
The vicious cycle strangles me to the ground.