It is the love of life.
Puts you in the centre of paradox of choice,
Sucks you to death by a combinatorial abyss,
Shows you a peacock's tail in the side track to knock you out of league,
Thrusts you with rampant rage in the amygdala for flat stairs of a fugue.
Leading nowhere, living in the moment,
Too ephemeral and lacking in foresight,
Oh, my dear love of life.
Let me slow down and ponder to love you more.
As you want to know you are going to end up where.
Or I see beautiful bricks everywhere,
with no home of my own ever.
complete
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