White lies, and the evil they resemble; and when the heart breaks, and every piece is told a simple truth How hard the fractures fall And in peace, theres no distress to make the angels fall; so semicircular replication and reproduction passes on an autumn wind The fossil, and its state of static certainty Where every man must deal in their own delights, and in the garden and its obstructions to a perfect prose We the people, governed and secluded in the space of deaths vicinity; Her aim pursues these iron chains of indecency as she wields the golden flames of my desire But as I travel the thick of time; her entrails leak And through a coexistence and our complacency; a hemorrhage reduces our fever to the noxious part of love And as the threat becomes a moistened puncture in the cold death of winters night, I grip onto safe passage Any way I can go; between fears agony and certain death; through a hypnotic wind, I will decide the season and the antithesis of my reduction into ash Loyalty and fair resolve become my post-traumatic flavor Every song has said its farewell, and here is no more toxin to decide the fate of us; only a slow and steady goodbye, just the markings of an innocent disaster.
Posted on: Sun, 03 Nov 2013 04:52:33 +0000
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