Endless, the loam and the abode,
In the realm where things erode,
Fall away, sometimes explode.
I am what I am,
So let bones be bones,
and ghosts, just that,
absurd to most,
feeding off a host,
oblivious, let’s make a toast,
yet something still looms,
unplanned, no time to make room?
Growth, a thing imminent,
Either getting better or worse,
but don’t you forget the chaos that comes first,