Overexposed

Reaching out from the soundscapes that keep this world alive.
I'm diagnosed with an overture to bleed inside the lines.
Strictly pure or mainly rot, the curing disease is just a blot on all things collapsible.

A ripple from time in this dying shine that keeps us alive.
Feeling frail from the present edge that soaks the blinds.
Cascade and rearrange all things in range to keep away the bile.

Lift them all to sanctuary, normal and extraordinary.
Angling souls through a decaying mold, reflecting life that's just too merry.
Breathe it in, a life so fresh, yet kept within the limit that they've burrowed in your mind.