Sitting beside an unmarked grave
Conjuring lacklustre thoughts of a revolution.
“His body is a culmination of chaos
constantly chasing the calm,
one that can barely tell
heaven from hell.”
Only this time the idea doesn’t rest
like a slipping quicksand, at unrest.
Some goals can never be buried
with nano evolutions, just carried.
The markers are just names
Mere figments and fiction.
Break the wheel 