While my Mood sharply swings

Death and the dream
Seems I still fleet in between
Up and down this stream I float
I breath between extremes

location
a: a wretched place
b: would be euphoric rush
chronic journeys back and forth
dust in wind that cannot set
I visit each but cannot stay
conceited thoughts whisper..

Am I
the chef of my portion
or a shell of channeled forces
A player with such power
or at the mercy of my cards

I am
Innocence distorted
The sum of much endured
The receiver of much blessings squandered of my own accord

And so I tell myself must take the rough with a smile
with caution accept the smooth
because taste can deceive
the situation cloaked sweet
turned peak in a flash
quick as a blink
sugar to shit.

But embedded in that heap
concealed seeds
from the shit hope grows
tomorrows sweet rose