Cycle, Uhm... no proper discription available.. Options

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Cycle

It is these thoughts of death
That burrow themselves in the deepest part of my head
And join to the person I have become
Slowly they start to grow
As time passes even slower
And as these aspirations delve into the world
This world in which I deem my own
So called the mind
So called the center of our intellect
I look into this sky of velvet black
Which each section comprises of its own collection of bright lights
That pierces this sky of night
Then into my eyes
And as I look above
I can’t help but think
That this night sky I look upon
And these stars shining down on me
Is the same night sky you look upon
And the same stars you lay your wishes on
Knowing this I think more yet
Of you that is so close to me, yet even farther away
And of you who is so far from me, and yet so close
For I know
As it has been preached to me
Engrained into my head and every thought
That in this world
There is nothing known as perfection
Yet in my mind, I have figured
I know the two closest things to that
Through the course of time, which is perfect
That when perfection ends
Perfection begins
And when perfection lives
Perfection dies

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No you're absolutely right, this was written a looonngggg time ago, before I ever thought of trying to seperate my work into verses. Perhaps that would solve the problem that you're looking at. But yes it is a bit choppy I must admit. Thanks for the critique