The years of torment flowing in the blood of our kind;
The scent of burning skin is still fresh on our mind. The irrelevant cries of a humble voice drone faintly under the bustle;
While the theft of spirit brings absence home, its sound is but a light rustle. Dying of thought through the engulfment of the night;
The weakened shoulders stooping, never seeing light. These crumbling wooden doors lead us deep into the past;
We dare to venture further, it seems we’ve found something to last. The beauty that exists in the wreckage often stronger than the others;
Rubble has greater value than structure, just not easy to uncover. Pushing to others their pain under pressure, a strength for the wicked;
Too heavy a weight for anyone, lest you label them convicted. The burdens weigh heavy on all that they blanket;
There is nothing left for the suffering but to be patient. I’m deleting my past through a series of buttons;
A quick deletion of memory so that it may be forgotten. With the weight of the sun heavy on the woodland;
The trees succumb to blazes at the request of human hand. The wailing voice of the wind stretches over the hillside;
In the dusk of souls I will join you wherever you hide. An array of light and realization of rushing fire;
Through the trees seeking air when our breath will expire. A thin line dividing the sky from the earth;
So that a scene of destruction may exist for our mirth. Sing a lullaby, drain the poison from the earth;
The stinging of rope on skin, cumbersome burden to bear. I aim to heal you, bring end to your pain and relief to your aching;
Because this time it’s worth more than the chance we’re taking. One seed of thought will grow in me, a florid meadow;
A single spark will burn it all, dust blown to echoes. The ghosts of liberty weep through the years;
While shadows that follow refuse to clean their tears. For the burdens to come, may we together share the blame;
I want my house and home to be one in the same. As your body and mind are beginning to rust;
I’ll be there to catch you as your being turns to dust. |
Archives
December 2018
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