Writers Jam

Lingering for the wistful imitation of a much-cherished memory,
Wishing to land on the same endearing face of every new roll of the dice,
Dreaming of going above and beyond in hollow fantasies,
yet in a relentless indolence to be betting on stream rolling the reality with desperate reverie,
But life doesn't let one off with irrelevant slackening,
When it just means to vanquish one with so much as such a bombardment, it all makes sense to persevere like never before.
All there is to behold is the inundating and ingenious possibilities of moments awakening.
And once in its aura, it feels like a joke to call out the supposedly decorated thoughts and beams of fantasies.
Magnanimous and overwhelming hours of just trying becomes imprinted within the culture of consistency
Swinging in from the trope of the chosen one, and chasing stereotypical success
A transcendent feeling engrosses one in the process, and everything starts flowing undeterred,
Rush is not a complain anymore.
Hope this feel never passes.