Pull the Trigger
What is pure
Is everything shes stored,
In wait of her hero;
She waits evermore.
Why does it seem the voice
Of this Hero is never quite strong enough??
They come and
They slash.
They cut
She bleeds.
Dried up
Shes done-
No love
They leave.
A new waterfall forms
But its not beautiful, no,
Nothing to adore
When Mother's tears flow-
a river cutting its way through the
Forest floor.
Go ahead.
We dont need that forest.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
Oh yeah,
Oil in the ocean?
Dig that hole;
If there's a spill
No worries, we can just go back home.
And that white tiger-
Beautiful creatures huh?
Bet it'd look just
SPLENDID
Posted above your mantle.
Or even better, a rug.
Yes rugs are nice.
Pull the trigger.
Copyright © Damien Schrecengost | Year Posted 2017
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