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Serart
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Claustrophobia
Loosing sight of the eternal garden can be devastating at best.
What drives me insane are the catastrophic perplexities of those closed souls,
with whom I have drank from the pure fountain of harmony.
As long as there's a maze, the miles will prevail,
Of wanting closed embordered my health will veil.
The enigmatic loss of vision and its accompanying diverse avenues of existence cause this lockdown hysteria;
But one can only get a glimpse of the frying sun; driving down the freeway, looking slowly up,
one could sidestep some of the unnecessary and undramatic emotional inconverences and overtones associated with casual and motive calamities,
For this necessity generally comes from the need to shift focus - from the victim to the envictor - an overload of climactic pressure cooked.
Claustrophobia of space within.
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