Echoes

Make no mistake, You are defined By opportunities declined, Your image in their minds, Degrades, a shame, Good friends are hard to find. You barely sleep most nights, Preventing progress out of simple spite, Self-sabotage delights, Forgive the slight, But you’ve become a fiend. The formless pilot of the mind Can crack and fracture over time, And redesign the line Between what is fucked up And what is fine. I’m waiting for a sign, But one that’s personal and not divine, Cuz even if I try, I know there is no reason to believe. Well, I guess it’s not as harmless as it seemed, The echoes of the self control your dreams, They show you what you must do to proceed, But you’re not listening. Every time I try to find myself, I turn up several guys. I scare myself sometimes, The demon still resides within my spine. Upon the mind it dines, In return it gives a glimpse of the divine, And numerous timelines, The full spectrum of the lives that you could lead.