at dawn
A day dies and another shift begins,
Lies and sifted truth told by a different personality.
A gifted persona in bigotry to drift with in hatred later,
Cater to dismantled thoughts, forever brokenly gifted.
It hurts to the core when self loath is monopolistic,
It's a totalitarian feeling, no need for diagnosis.
I just want to live a life without inner politics,
But in the end I give in to this internal paralysis.
Nuts and bolts, colts and silver buds, even “odds”
Shiver and Fear seem to befit emotions at dawn.
At the death of a star, “defeat” is drawn from not far,
Rather at the beginning of shining darkness.