Questions

The choice I made, I feel like the choices were made.

Do I rejoice in the shade?

Through all the voices I prayed.

What a pointless display, I was voiceless to say.

Do I destroy what I made?

Like a boy with a blade, with a toy that I hate, getting joy when it breaks.

I'm getting annoyed at all the weapons deployed, suggesting my perceptions uncoiled.

Why are all these questions embroiled in lessons, a presence unspoiled?

If there's an essence, the reference I question the sentence that boiled.

With a sense I'm being threatened by heaven for all the blessings I spoiled.