Confliction

A heart bleeds for synchronicity, A mind yields for hypertonicity A soul feeds on rhythmicity

The trinity of spirituality — confliction exists, for those who wander the earth for answers

It reeks within, this sense of irony — the sheer deprecation of someone’s desire

Ages of suffering, and losses perhaps — yearning for relief and survival at best, asking for peace from every threat, that plagues the mind and a heart’s content

Never did it truly exist — the feeling of yonder, a mythical beast that ravaged the soul through a poor man’s heart, robbing himself of his life and all

It made a clear sign of pestilence — causing people to decay therein, their love rots, never being accepted, their minds drift away in a seismic voidance

A war perhaps that was waged — ad infinitum, no one shall never know the bond that was severed