I suppose it’s a state of mind,

My world crumbling around me.

Little sound bytes of tyranny

Veiled by loyal mouthpieces.

We sometimes feel isolated

By surges of the unthinkable.

We wonder out loud some times,

Believing the mystery awaiting.

Even then the facade is stronger,

Our words are tied in knots.

When a wish about morning,

Holds challenges that will return.

How we breathe and observe,

Is suddenly under scrutiny.

When might we begin our

emotional revolution!