The ninety-nine realities. Can't stop. In a millisecond frame, your anger into hate themes, stricken with time, out of a realm of shimmering air. To the wolves. As if crushed under weights - demolishing, racing - wasting your life, lead on to a blackened fantasy. A reeling inside, the pressures collide. Reality. The ninety-nine realities. Can't stop. A transformation in the heat, we'll ride the blood's speed - never the same - caught in a whirling urgency. We'll fall. And elations die away, give in to nothing - a veil of lies - reducing you as a meager game. A reeling inside, the pressures collide. The ninety-nine realities. Can't stop. And every moment our lives shred apart.
