five, six, seven, eight

Going through change

The wait

the evolution,

eroding each trait.

with a push, a pull

resisting the change

into stone, into fate.

The bell has rung

the fight has begun

The choreography 

of a great dance, 

of a planned life,

what we fought,

all for naught.

Because 5,6,7,8

You become what you hate