Generation Dead

By Mark Miller 09/12/2017 Question mark remarks- Remnants remain same Mixed up in shame Conditions existence speaks, Of lucid transcendence Not I he states am fearful in dark He could be blame Creator of still hate- Style of grace wears self in haste Home is a place of hours strife grief Strangers in masks fakes fracture face Nobody welcomes the Judas, Hone pretender, He Lies alone in eternal state Graves Should he deny- Or should I stay- Distant pictures carry our portrayal Invisibility devides disappearance, Where a child plays games, Of yesteryear's tears O many times betrayed Forsaken longs to belong, In him-towards me Telephonic ghosts wade through , Our bleeding hearts death Then wait for cost in nothingness For simplicity springs the wanting When hope shatters Stained Class- And life begins upon fool's shadow Carving a person of rust filled diamonds Under selves puddle arrangement , Opens anew surrender of truth in trust Laying down in final shallows deep