Pages

Pages, lacerated and ripped off

As of the falsehood tore apart 

For the unconventional lies ahead of him, 

His futile, paced life taking turns 

Into making him believe in the multiple existences 

Each flowing down the same pit 

For any road towards an alternative ending 

Steers him, along the same path

For every piece shifted on the board

Every alternative adopted, 

He ends up losing his Queen 

Lying down the extremities of choice and outcomes 

Every story carved out on pages 

Each syllable leading to a substitute chapter 

All contrasting, yet so indistinguishable 

As the color of the ink changes 

White on black, black on white 

His contrasts featuring multiple universes 

Yet end lies in eternal chaos 

For the doomsday left neglected 

Shall rise to the eternities of existence, 

For the sensation of words down pages 

Desolation of the truth, amongst the falsehood of lies 

Brings peace to the chaos within 

For the monosyllables attain the destruction 

Of what lies within the chained thoughts 

For we keep knocking on closed doors 

Pulling strings attached to flashbacks of the past, 

Holding on to the moments that lay so broken, 

That they can't puzzle up to form memories again, 

For stories of loss, can't be mitigated with radiant words

People lost, can't be shackled forever in ripped pages.