We turn the wheel, aligning our inherent laziness with arrogance,

Displaying as pleasure is to sin and when ultimately an unconventional inference,

Portrays me as just too much, or as it seems not enough to be,

Proclaiming silence and patience within revelry.

Changing the thermostat, I can feel it raining,

Are you really listening to me complaining?

Or am I refraining to speak honestly?

Honestly, the difference is void, defunct so null in my essence,

As I provide the perfectly pointless path to the plight,

forward is yelled, hiding my deceitful benevolence,

Its obvious, surely.

Ah, again its clearly unclear.

Eventually, we all just succumb to reverie.