…….What internal inadequacies imprisons me here, life’s phantasmagoric dreams comes loose at the seams when I meditate, yet still past crimes to explain my sentence don’t resonate, I’ve grown dependent on inadequate sense organs so I hesitate, fallen victim to the flesh, lived too long in it, I marinate; death is no sentence, you’ll be freed at its gates, it’s this world that hates, it creates dark fates, surely on the other side something brighter awaits, a place dark matters can’t give chase.