CREATION

Characters

I,
I am that calling echo
Reminding bone to bone
A consciousness—an inward one
To sleep, digest, live
For insomnia, indigestion, and death

You,
You are my reality
The vicious cycle called life
Unconscious hope
Pursuing the parity
Of existence

We,
The dying illusion
In the arms of staccato
Preparing for its decay

They,
The words those pass
From banter to banter
Bought and sold at a price

I,
Again retrieve the words
To make you the echo
For the we to trespass
The bone, the tissue of our death.