I’ve always believed the Buddha,
but karma can’t exist.
In this life, when giving more,
the least you seem get.
Unyielding, one tries to stay true,
buried by disappointment,
all outside forces feeding.
The weeping in one’s soul,
as if auctioned, stolen and sold.
Reluctant to be bold with this loss of self control.
Shading cloaks high hopes,
from cotton candy dreams.
So sweet, yet unreal, mistaken by a craven appeal.
chasing an illusion as these aspirations take heels.
To bow the knee, surrendering to the stave.
Crumbled, captured, there had once been a chance,
reliving in the ruin, now taking that second glance.
The light, succumbed to the night, as the day digs a grave…
One more puff to stay positive.
One more pass and it’s negative.
No more false breathe nor failed cognition.
Taking a step back from friction to study fact and fiction.