Ditch the ground rules,

A bounty of no regrets;

Desires fulfilled against the ethics,

Weaving the art of manipulation.

Mind games to consider realism

As a slash to the crossroads.

Addictive beer intoxicating the difference,

The consideration between self-fulfillment and empathy.

Confused Alpha-much like the Indecisive Feline of

Your past; such ancient habit you contracted.

Return to the bliss once grasped tightly,

Or trek anew to type the pages of another chapter.


Can unexplained action be a sharp weapon?

A tool to justify adultery's bloody excitement,

A purple feather that soothes underlying reminders

Stored at the epicenter of the conscious

Which mocks its victim to teething oblivion.

Is it a sign to back track to the memorable?

A comfort integrated among connected souls,

The fuel to the crossroad's flames.


But why multiply when woes should degenerate?

Withdrawn to the shadows where secrecy is safe,

Yet an abomination to mankind.

Tears: the filament blinding realistic thought,

Fear: what binds him from opportunity,

And dwelling: inhibiting her stress of the chase.

Crossing the same path

And arriving to the familiar tree on the right,

That could in the sky provoking deja vu,

The abnormal blade of grass still pecking

Through the dirt road.

Easy entrances and tricky exits;

But meaningful path is there to take?

The resilient blonde or the boisterous brunette?

Such a crossroads impeding the happy ending.


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