In my heart, I hunt for answers. I scour my mind for an oath to swear.
Startled to find a rat’s nest of worry, I warily step deeper into my thoughts, steeping in the uncertainty.
Captive of my own curious search, I wander among wonder and curve around borders.
Entangled within my own strangling concepts, I am suffocating in the depth, squeezing truth out of illusion.
If my captive thoughts could escape, where would they go?
They’d fly into complacency, worry-free. They’d rest their little feet on soft delusion. They’d whisper fantasies and lies, content in their false bliss – But I choke this joy from them… to cage them with facts, wrestle them back to reality, hold them to this world, force them to abide by all the knowledge I wish I could hide.
In one deep yawn, I stuff down the temptation of letting them escape. Instead, I hunt for the best awful truths. I endure this torturous process for the fear of living behind, in a false life.