Atrox

I am the constant comings and goings of my selves.
Some of them settling within, some going on. Others sojourning indefinitely, tuning in, tuning out.
New attendants join - cynicism, misanthropy, indifference. Should I embrace them or have them exorcised?
Oh this inevitable madness. Let it come. Transmute it by enduring it.
Let sorrow in. It will leave eventually. Otherwise it will stay knocking on your door forevermore.