The speeding mind will always assert itself over all other common sense. It will impose upon all its self-importance. Shifting gears in its ever-increasingly ravenous pursuits deafened it to the sound of the soul longing to sing its song along the way.
Ignoring all signs to ruin within its speed, unable to see of the blur the subtlety that is required in the processing of growth, unable to hear the listener warned of imminent danger of crash and ruin of the soul.
Racing in the control of cycles the will is ever displaced, never able to forge the culmination of its acceleration believing it to be its sole purpose. Only in the aftermath of its wreck is it finally slowed and in the agony of its capture it fades.
Now, longing for that which was ablaze in such short a cycle as life. But only now in this most ominous silence of ruin is that which was hastily and hurriedly sought (a solemn moment of clarity) to reflect upon is come as a thief only to fade away everything in life.
So until that place of ruin come upon you, with equal bewilderment, shall you not slow your speeding mind to hear the listener warning of so common an end as have so many before you ended?
