the local paper got his name wrong
most bar the keen skipped the page
in the flow of everyday slog
owning to the deficit minus percentage
in account for a waste of potential, probation
strike the tab awash with the struggle
good men ARE sent to war afterall.
make no haste for plans are hardly complete in thoughts easily taken
to feed the meat grinder that fattens the fire
of ambition, assumed lunacy perpendicular to taking sides
us against the enemy, united, jointed at the chained wrists
'this cannot be happening to me'
ever tighten, like a first love, suplicant and naive. criss-cross overlapping
a mistake to lie.
recognize the status of emergency. straight for the egress.
hand in hand dodge the falling timber, ignore the cries in alarm
far from a soft blow, picture brain and bone mesh
in a non gentle stew soupy mixture, vomit inducing
should cannibalism hold the vampiric proprieties of immortality
all hell shall be unleashed when we get to know
and the unfolded zombie apocalypse realized.
they found you: run for your life.
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