a phrase to inspire, a dead given riot
alarming motivating a whipping is
a bloody mess that soups up by the spoon
a bowl to covet the driving seat
the throne of kings and queens,
a mercy those beneath despair for
down below underground screams
go unheard and forgotten
lost souls to the pyre
dark clouds absorb my guiding light
hard to tell off trees from walls
in this modern existance of spectrums
the countdown to the end of despair is nay or so
the carrot strings me along, in promise and hope
a betrayal of sorts this existance of possibilities
as if owed anything discountent seeps on me skin
my bones, my mind, my soul.
in shambles and hurt
acting out of bounds, for duty binds us to the path
forcefully, do the right thing
expecting others to follow suit in lament
gift us all that we need despite it colapsing the house
we built slowly, manually, in past times of hipnotizing glares
the lent is twisted, feels like the jade has grown dull
to the experienced eye.
to rebuild anew takes a sense of wonder
astray my stars aline in wander instead.
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