Losing Control

Roaring rage and red line lies
roam against the tires of sanity
holding reliance's frail wheel
upon the reflection's racetrack
towards obscurity's trailer park.

Curve in calamity's edge
bends the mind towards collision
with the accusing landscape of desire
that dances in the eyes
when peeking into the looking glass
by artificially induced clarity.

Hearing the crash impending
not even attempting to apply the brake,
ride towards fate
more thrills
than tooling down the road
in a coffin of excuses.

Time clings the conscious to the highway
no traffic cops of truth
come to cite one's illusions,
racing forward to the horizon
smothered in anxiety's dust cloud
accepting having no power
over the destination,
but foot still glued to accelerator.