There is this "thing" that dangles beneath the surface of wariness
They are called Cowards depending on the wrath of fallen hearts
They continuously collect Countless demonstrations of leveled thoughts
Collectively binding them to levy you into that world of depression
Scrunched in between opposing dichotomies
Wrinkled beneath fine features
They thrust the very notions of your insecurities
Simultaneously pushing them forward to become your deepest desires
Yet they are seldom followed
Last to realize the power of time
They somehow forget the vigor of the mind :)
