Gut level, below it all.
  Out of duty - just here.
  Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it
  is.
  False hope, an inch of pride that died when I left to hide
  from non
  stop battering of conditioned opinion.
  Rest assured but not assured, all is well, but I think we've
  dealt
  with the fear for far too long.
  Unborn suffer the norm.
  Born to this - I thin not!
  I stand against till the shit drops.
  We see all but do nothing, in the hole of How it is.