Things Fall Apart
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Tonight, King's dream might be final fantasy,
we have our skins of flight.
In their bones of might
white sons stamp supremacy.
Asserting primacy,
pallid enforcers inflict their mortal bite.
Tonight, King's dream might be final fantasy,
we have our skins of flight.
But your rage like brimstone gavels could unravel galaxies,
you also have skins of fight.
The audacity of a pitched stone downsized Goliath, never mind his haughty heights.
Don't think it's over ~ purchasing babbling policies, hoping on barren prophecies, and bopping to their strident fallacies.
Tonight, King's dream might be final fantasy.
Copyright © Trina Layne | Year Posted 2025
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