Tumbling
- Chris Worley

- Dec 1, 2025
- 1 min read
Words, thought but never said
Deeds retracted, redacted left for dead
Unsaid, undone missed connections reverberating in my head
Dreams, desires trapped, flailing
Seeking life then aborted, death’s siren wailing
Hopes of more - to climb, to soar, to be the best
Now lost, not even deaf ears to pass the test
But from my heart these lusts did flow
Only to be burdened by what I know
And that, my friend,
Is a thing that has no end
Affirmed by self-coronated genius
Sustaining me through doubt and humility
Know all, be all, I great seer
My destiny, figment-created always near
Never clear
I slander, slay and pervert reason
Manipulate to fit my current season
But, I need more counsel to remove all doubt
To be certain what this is all about
So I call in my dear, dear friend confusion
To confirm the truth of my illusion
STOP, listen, not to the crazed genius-head
But to the heart that now seems dead
To the soul lost in self-destruction
Of sacrosanct reasoning carefully constructed
Can the haze be cleared, the foundation restored
Where is the real that was me before this mental storm
My head, my heart, my soul in raging conflict
Tearing at my eyes like a psychoderelict
Finally the flash bulb pops
Exploding my intricately mangled props
Exposing the ruse that was a thought
Much more than a passing cyclone was not
Steadied now I am
Thoughts and words congeal like honey jam
My eyes wide open mouth more so
Return to the masses I go

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