choices long loathing on a wall

Time locked sickness, having stared at the moment forever remembered on my wall
left long ago now it seems just like a series of facade arrangements on a program that my neurotic dreams and computer capabilities derived, touch up and mounted for all to recall. When the companions of god send a message of hope or the masters of doctorates write prescription notes; to rearrange all your vanes and place them back into the hands of another folk, to make think like your alive but you really just feel dead or a joke, to have you walk around supported by their vision or insertion forced into your receptors. To lose what makes one free train of cognition by telling that they are now fully independent. Now you lost the light of day and its always night, because of it resourceful you become now all that is left is whether you choose thy kingdom come and a body to live off that's not your own, or will start you on this for a month, then let me check if we have this strength in stock otherwise you'll have to wait for your clear vision. Now look back at that facade square full of proportions and depth perception just because your image in your thoughts traveling deep inside the one that started this choice for recoiling or falling; just because the grievance's didn't turn back the never ending ticking, you don't have to lose a gift and become an end with in itself, just edit undo and and all of your dreams will come true.