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A constant ringing in my ear has led my drums to despair,

A weeping sensory nerve that will never care.

A heartless brain crashing down on its own make up,

A bottomless genetic war never brimming over the top.

I can’t pinpoint the cause to such a plague,

With symptoms hiding behind the vague.

I drizzle a message from my brain’s own seeping’s,

But the page does not record such vulgar things.

A yawn in the midst of an uncertain obscurity,

I search for my eyes to find the lost empathy.

But how do I find my vision without my sight?

The biological logistics don’t seem quite right.

This conundrum is not one just for the skin,

But for the spirit buried an age within.

Now to awake the rock on which I’m breathing,

Look past the lungs, to my conscience believing.

Alas I wake from my temporary fright,

I make sense of my surroundings as I regain my sight.

I admit that was a mistake in my part of history,

But I have the hope whom once died for me.