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Cyberlife Chronicling

However else we've clambered
up this steepness
We are mentioning
how we have found each other
nonetheless

Claiming to have faith
and grace—moving along
in our weary ways
we get indulged, like we belong

But.. unknowing of the fact
how actually sick and tired I have got

Therefore,
I shall only be able to
trace features of an outline
and paint the skies with
painterly, but scumbled sunshine

The calumnies, and forbearances
I always have put me in check
as with our vague impressions
revolving around—make me sick


(Sickened...and convalescing..)


I guess we are here to ponder
once more,
to give ourselves more space
than ever before
to accept fallacies, never
once more—