Is this the life that leads the lost?
Do the lost have lives to lead?
Is this the price that quitting cost?
Does reward grow another seed?

Is this a life to live at all?
Do I live or die or dream?
Can the conscious create my call
Echoing through my vocal stream?

Retiring to this was not what I had hoped for.
To press on conspiring, I‘m unsure of the cure.
Inspiring solutions as still I contemplate.
Pistons are firing, as I wait for the slate.

Am I astray or am I still
Straying from my former standing
Behind windows of broken stills,
Melting trails of too demanding?

Do I view or am I viewing
Memories or something present?
Viewing still or trapped reviewing
Images I last inherit?

Memories still staking for review stay away
From the fire. Centuries all still stay, for this day.
Mechanic translations I refer to decide
Where it is, if I stick to the side, I reside.