Gut level, below it all.

Out of duty - just here.



Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it is.



False hope, an inch of pride that died when I left to hide from non stop

battering of conditioned opinion.



Rest assured but not assured, all is well, but I think we've dealt

with the fear for far too long.



Unborn suffer the norm.

Born to this - I thin not!

I stand against till the shit drops.



We see all but do nothing, in the hole of "How it is".