rhyming slinger

so the words come along in my head and it's become a habit to end each following line with a rhyme
slinging them out, working them out, before they are read, in my mind, what do i want to say today?
who knows because most of the time it's just something that's come to me there and then so when?
When does it become clearer, nearer, to the time of less confusion and answering all the questions?
When will the quest be over, have all the myths and legends been turned from stories into my facts?
Why is it that the fantasies and phantasms of the last year, from a period ending around valentines
seem to be my own fears, some say they hear voices, some tell me it's a spirit cohabiting inside.
Some say that we can talk to the dead, some say that's a bad idea, some say this is an illusion.
Some say that we can talk to nature, become a part of it, get closer, feel connection and yes,
get some truths around the reasons why we're at this point in time and space right now today.
These habits around the ways i write, letting sentences end at a similar position, narrowing.
Wider at the start narrowing as though I'm working towards the centre, a singularity thing?
A point to get to, in our evolution, to strive to be better, become something new and good.
That's the thing with us you see we've been on this trajectory for so long now and yonks.
Long long road, narrow, with failures and mistakes on either side, and those poor folks,
who couldn't get a ride, got left behind, the ones who die, those who never got to live.
 It seems to come down to it's all a lie, all superstition, personal revelation, faking it.
Just things others have told us that can't be true, we make them that way, me, you.
The world as a place, so full of people who don't believe in magic anymore really.
They just live in ignorance and are blissfully unaware of any of the ways to seek,
hiding from it all no wonder, so indebted to others, because that creates riches.
Feeling like someone elses bitches, slaves, subjects to an order out of chaos.
Something not to bother to write home about, just another serf to royalty.
They do quite a lot for us, it was never meant to be about my neighbour.
The future king of england, so or his sons, or their mother, or rumours,
fables, tales, and back again, so that is why i live free, freer, cleaner.
I figure if I can prevent myself from projecting out into the world.
The things that were programmed into me at an early age and,
instead delve deep into my dreams by going to bed regularly,
ok i'm missing out on dancing, trance-ing to the beat oh well
this way i sleep more, carry a little more weight and fat and
don't waste money on drink, tobacco, drugs and all o' that
wanna be a reliable witness and find out the reasons why
i suffered, maybe years of creating a body made of junk
over the next seven years it will be made of earth and
water the cleaner the deeper the better from inside
more plants and foods from the wild and sunlight
do all the good things i've got planned for others
this year and go walking again on a pilgrimage
next year while i study to give spiritual healing
practise keeping good habits for the sake of
others, maybe even find i'm doing it for me
see what life brings up and what comes
out of the woodwork from the worms
that burrow into our minds over time
keep delving deep with vispassana
root out the darkness and shadow
the basis for the suffering taken
hold at an early age the rage
find the emotions that are
hid express them turn my
attention to the rest of
you and yes realise
the failings of my
mispent illspent
youth clean up
my act and try
to find out the
best way to
be free and
say sod it
to the rat
race go
and live
peace
fully
me
.