Corrupt
The vice grip tightens, the juniper breeze blows
Good and evil are as one and so very close
Praise that which gives you what you will
But is it truly what you need
Finding bliss in ergonomic thoughts
Brings about the lethargy of the free
Empty and vain, a world of tears
Flows like waves of entombed fears
In the final blast a whimper will be made
The silence will tear through colonnades
It will be heard and forgotten at once
For that is the state of being
Fearful and corrupt
Copyright © Grant Hill | Year Posted 2015
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