And when will it be time for me to leave a dying place, the madness of

existence, turmoil, guilt of crime, depression and insanity?

When will it be time for me to leave?

Is it too soon as I have not finished fulfilling my destiny, or is it too late,

as I may be dead  before it is all done?

Society's crimes overwhelm my being, the intensity of its feelings

locked within my soul. Should I have begun this journey in the first place,

or opted to remain in the realism of true nature and happiness

where freedom exists? Glum, dark and doom is what it really is.

To continue to kid myself is a betrayal of my own truth. The true ness

of my own soul lies within the cult and blood of my own oneness.

To talk about pleasantness is nothing, but hypocrisy to the truth, and 

the truth is that, it is nothing but sorrow. To admit this pronunciation

is revelation of the damdness of the wickedness, not falsehood

conjured by guiles and mischief.

To conquer the hypocrises of survival is by far not a pleasant thing

as throughout it all dubiousness and cynicism and hatred prevails.

To laugh amidst hunger and cold is a strenghthening trait as it teaches

dominance  amidst the weak, winner amidst the fools,

richness amidst the poor, and if life is still miserable, then prayer for

peace and tranquility should lie ahead, that I should prepare for it.

The silence of aggression, the madness of solitude and need for love

extends the years of oneself, bringing age and death at some point. I

should then just continue this continuation of my life, as until I move,

same shall prevail.

Copyright.Lorna Knox ( nee Ramsamugh )