and i'm gone

i'm my own worst enemy so either way i've got the competition in my palm. taking things into my own hands, clenched fists, i'm crushing them all. until i realise the only thing i'm crushing is myself to the floor. caged in, hate driven, i'm always trying to even the score. there's nothing left of me but the ashes of my core.

function of reality

no time left to regret, stride down the lane of worldly temptations, bypass the fields of despair and be encompassed by the clouds of success. dreaming is for well wishers, living is the ultimate decision.

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where shall i go? left where there's nothing right? or right where there's nothing left?