I’m not writing this for you, silent intemperate witness
the same rain paints your canvas but lifeless
self neurosis constricts and binds rainbows
from adorning walls of crashing acidic lies
Honesty laced with empathy, is it that hard?
Crushing waves of apotheosis, honour and kin
the only traits noble of hominine sacrifice
left on broken blood soaked shores of lassitude
The web glues all whether you like it or not
lighting up every cell to stimulate interior growth
Reawaken to the facts and reconnect, everything is waiting
opposite the shores of occupation and self-immolation
Copyright © SCOTT TUNSTALL | Year Posted 2018
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