folds in upon itself
in daedal oragmi
indeed, in deed and action
in the exacting replication
worn down by repetition
the facts lose traction
on the soft sanded slopes
of age and satisfaction
til the happy times a haze
and the worser times ablaze
the locks unbreakable but pickable
as we pick and choose
the hows and whys and whos
the reverie is ours to win or lose
mixt betwixt the olds and news
self resides; id divides,
ego hides our flaws
as superego prides
itself we're of just cause
just because we remember
until the last dying ember,
photon, spark of self
dissolves and resolves us
into dark
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