The abysmal scratching at the door,
like the empty rooms of before,
from the empires to the shores
everything begins to fall.
From predicting to contradiction,
the information affliction,
backing into a dark corner
I return to fight my addiction.
The fear suffocates and darkens,
tries to engulf me entirely
meets me half way there
and strengthens my recovery.
I find myself rescinded
I try to stop pretending
If I give in to despair
I can never begin surrendering.
Hiding behind the open door,
I clutch at brittle straws,
there’s nothing I want more
than to see the world restored.