Inward Journey

And the lineage of existence does not fade. I try to wipe off, the heavy showers of death, daily. The pains were rising, in every word, in every talk. As part of nothingness, I was trying to find happiness. Put the shadows down, touch the questions again. The mentor wants blood, truth was in body, small seeds of life. Wrapped up, dry, cryptic, to suck at the fears of birth. You are becoming a tree, roots, branches, leaves against a serial killer.