2013/11/17

Bloody Quills - 2013/11/17

Like a merry-go-round spinning in hell,
It seems that things are not going well.
Once again unto the breach down the pit,
Do any of you try to truly give a shit?

I speak this way because it defines me,
Vocabulary precedes cold weakness, see?
Forget the words spitting from my lips,
Instead watch all the invisible blips.

They bounce around as if to some tune,
Played by a fucking deaf and dumb loon.
Are they high or is there a disconnect?
Lets call out a perfection not so erect.

Spare me your platitudes and indignation,
This is a not some game, it is our nation.
Cry your eyes shut so I can pry them open,
You are ready for truth or so I am hoping.

Welcome to a vicious cycle, it is our cell,
Your arrival was heralded with a great bell.
That rang incessantly all fucking year long,
Asking us to murder you no matter how wrong.

Drink the poison coursing through our veins,
Become one with our misery insight and pains.
It is never too late to be part of something,
Whether it is hope or of the horrors we sing.

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