Can’t.

The alliteration is a facade you create for engagement

Each word a pretence of your past that you cannot conquer

An errand boy sent by grocery clerks to collect a bill?

A lost soul sent by soulless subordinates to do work of non-significance.

Meter is dead. We break myths.

The tone to your questions bears no importance.

Even if you kill yourself you cannot destroy self.

No meditative escapade or drug or sex or rock and roll is your liberation.

No books or moving pictures or love or friendship will give you freedom.

Your silence to each and every injustice condemns you to a life of non atonement.

The very act of coming to me for answers shows your unreadiness.

You come to me to be your god. Others have crowned me the devil.

I am the faces to a coin; I am the prisoner and the judiciary

I am the litany and the corrupt. The pimp and the prostitute.

Am I the answer you needed? Or a facade that hates on facade?

Am I religion or the very essence of life?

Am I humanity? The basic human emotions.

Am I a depraved soul that sees me in you?

Am I you from eons ago; justified in my injustice?

We are the past and the future existing in the present.

We are the origin and the end in the current.

Our paths forever together; yet never same.

Are you in pain or am I insane?

Am I the reason or was it all in vain?

Each moment lost like tears in rain.

Each feeling forever; existing beyond timeframes.