Mission after equates

To perpetual turbulence.

Something missing in the strands

That keep us finite.

Without gravy,

Without ambition,

And Success is Limited

To Happy Things.

So these Happy Things

Haunt us

To do something about it

And there is no one

But the conscious mind to defeat

And spooky sound avoidance

Will bring us to more content times

If one does not find themselves happy.