History has a way of repeating itself
None of it makes sense
Cobwebs and dust whilst sitting on the shelf
Awaiting news that’s conclusive
When blood is spilt in the ocean waters
The sharks in high alert attack
Watching pieces of carcass mutilated
Confusion is far from elusive
It’s about watching your front and back
Shrilling to confuse your mind, discombobulated
Settling back to keep in mind
Spiritually none of this matters
But on this plane
It’s a broken record that continues in kind
~Divine