Whistle
Unsettled to the point of nausea
Caused a seizure
To assume
Accepted at noon
In the evening
All reasons
Will become clear
Nothing left to chance
Breeze past
The mass of distractions
Waves of afflictions
Simmer onwards
Have to go forwards
So important
To get it right
In this second
Have reckoned
On supreme help
Requests dealt
In equal measure
Distinct pleasure
Have to treasure
This awesome possibility
Hold steady
As the tide turns
Endeavor to learn
Where the pieces slot
Have got
To become awake
Illusions shake
This fragile body
Reinventing completely
To a new persona
Only ever a taker
Should by in solitude
Will resume
Where left off
Gone soft
Till disturbed
The pathway curves
Into mountains
Calmly counting
The exits open
Dawn broken
By the strain
Have to play the game
To satisfy
The maximum to try
And make a difference
Versed in defiant resistance

Tube
Couldn’t contain the flood
Have to brood
In line with the season
High treason
To subscribe
To this ride
Racing south
Conquer doubts
To reinvent positivist
Discover creativity
With renewed passion
No distraction
In sight
Got to let the light
Flood the floor
Accept more

Crashed
Contemplating the final decent
Hadn’t meant
To become so removed
Tasks to prove
Some kind of motive
Highly evocative
In every respect
Have to correct
The ignorant
Gauge temperament
Strong candidate
In the running for the position
Open to interpretation
Long duration
Of inconvenient facts
No going back
Gone too far
Shameful to care
Competition won out
Shouldn’t about
Prior discrepancies
No leniency
Guilty as charged
Power drained
By affliction
Special occasion
Built a burning pile
Going a while
Without contact
Lost the stomach
To get over these pathetic urges
Binges and purges
Cant control
The dial when turned to maximum
The earth shattering
At the sight
Of something so slight
Still known
This is a game
Usually played
For personal prowess
Real mess
With confusing and blind ignorance
Appreciate the sentiment

Contact
Changing for an escape
Have to relate
Horrible distrust and frustration
Still shaking
From the wound
That won’t mend
Buck the trend
To slide into deviance
Need deliverance
Habits and prologue
Thickening smog
Drowns out the truth
Pressure to choose