"Artwork In An Abrams"
Looking deep within my cerebellum,
A cerebral cortex fights me.
More flexible than I had imagined,
With imagery and images of a death portrayed.

Catch me,
If you can.
I don't want to go back empty handed,
Stranded without a land with hold hand in hand.

You choose to leave me,
Drop me,
You don't catch me anymore.

I choose to live.

The only catch to you not catching me,
Turns out to be...

I find myself unfortunately without a fortune,
And it appears you might have won.