33 lines (Lost So Deep)

The Opportunity keeps eludin’ me, constantly, an eulogy of gloom & grief consuming me subconsciously,

moonlight moves through ruined dreams, abusive scenes of uncertainty, crucifying pieces of my lucidity

stars align in harsh design, they carve my mind psychologically, dark divine astronomy archin’ timelines improperly

I charted arcs in time that tore apart what’s locked to me, shockingly, we lost in cosmic mockery, apostasy in prophecy

constellations cross the policies of God’s economy, monopoly on harmony, turn love to psychological autopsy philosophy

you cherished every “what if” like it was prophecy, properly, now lost inside a faulty probabilistic odyssey

while possibilities rot inside a paradoxical policy, where memory’s a mockery, a locked and lost topology

lost-time loops in silent cycles, vital rivals spiral backwards in revival of a broken psychological revival spiral

the connection was a reflection, necro-sectioned from a dead-dream inception, a deception in celestial interception

I searched the sky to find the line where scars align with symmetry, inner imagery, chemistry turned into injury

parallel realities where we were never split in me, but history shifted me, bitterly rewritin’ what was meant to be

but fate glitch-hit, gate split, I missed it—dismissed it, now I coexist with ghosts inside a prison of persistence

memories suspended in a gray-system, faith missing, “maybe” is the phrase livin’ replayed in brain prisons

I replay timelines like tapes inside a faded cassette, regrets embed, every step repeats inside my head’s silhouette

your name echoes in my chest like a threat I never left, every breath is met with stress I can’t forget or intercept

presence turned to pressure, mental weather never settled better, spectral pressure etched forever in my mental letter dresser

you and me was “maybe, baby,” but the cosmos played it shady, rearranging every maybe into never meant to save me

now I’m drivin’ through the rain while the world turns grey and grainy, pain is painting every lane like every lane is tryin’ to break me

romantic traces, faded faces, alternate placements of the places where we made it but the matrix never let it take me

missed the chance while planets danced just out of reach in sequence, frequent fragments of a sequence preaching pieces of demeaning grievance

now I drift through “could’ve been” like sleep deprived believers, lost receivers of a future I can see but can’t retrieve it

burden builds and bends my will until the image keeps repeating, every meeting with your memory deletes my inner breathing

union used to move in tune but now it’s mutinous and bleeding, symmetry defeated, fate retreated from the meaning

still I turn my stress to blessings, lessons nested in confession, every sentence is a weapon dressed in cosmic intercession

stars above my ceiling spelling endings in depression, every message I transgress is just a test of my expression

cherished maybes turned to graves inside abandoned galaxies, casualties of fantasy collapsing into tragedies

your absence hangs like satellite storms across my sanity, gravity of memories attacking me in static majesty

cosmic catastrophe embedded in my anatomy, casually I carry these calamities as shattered dualities

haunted by the possibility we never reached ascension, every sentence feels suspended in emotional detention

still I speak through static fractures of collapsed dimension layers, prayers in vapors, love decaying into vaporized prayers

your silhouette still flickers in fragmented prayer layers, stars didn’t hate us—they just changed their map coordinates and left us there

now I’m solo in the echo where affection lost its tether, transmuting all this weather into letters for forever

turning pain into precision, lyrical incision weather, translating broken pressure into scripted stormy measures