When you come around finally,
The way Karma does,
I tell you it’s been two days.
Bewilderment takes hold tight.
The way our hands do,
Hanging above an abyss.
Two days? How can that be?
Thoughts weighed out and analyzed,
Like balancing that Triple-beam.
Finally, it’s obvious your mind has failed.
“That way”, it tells synapse.
Guessing, lying through its teeth.
What happened? That first lasting question.
That wade, into the cold dark deep.
Wherein, we choose to face ourselves, influenced.