I gloat on a mountain of cigarettes,
self-righteous mortals beneath a cloud of smoke,
polluted blood,
I howl as my cells siren for a piece of mind,
the sighing pulse awaits implosion of serotonin at cusp with the height of freight,
meditate above a red sky,
a germ symbotic with existential earth,
that of a worm,
crawling towards the burning sun.
out of sight,
watched by the giving tree,
return as dust,
thus,
I\'m but a fractal of transient life.