As I talk without reaching through
Exist in a sea of mumbling fools
Interact without giving of myself
Ghostlike wandering
through dead cities
Walking among lost souls
who forgot how to speak
Ghostlike wandering
Patterns joined together by shifting connections
You walk away and your place is being filled by
stretching over emptiness
When you exist only for yourself and
the smell of stillborn blood
from the vibrating surroundings
reveals what they are all made of
Reveals that I lack the quality of finding joy
in participating in the play set up before us
Acting upon external powers
To feed ambivalence