Brace for bright balanced delight.
Insight into the fight amongst those
who encroach upon the royal roast.
Fiendish repose reposts a ritalin fuelled re-toast
to those who lost and loathed in a battle deposed.
Deposit the vague vogue which inescapably escapades
against the regal rose.
Why fight those which seek to hose the fire in the battle below?
It’s not worth our mellow, yellow gold to bur up against
the brittle bones laying awake, cold.
They may be bold but they will fold when they embrace their suicide. Clear eyes despise the victim brutalised
for believing in truth found in the skies,
from Alberta to Uruguay;
there’s love, laughter and life.
Vice betrays life and thus finds strife.
Veritas odium parit;
apparently its a fucking sin to parrot the truths found within.
Repeat the truth and one day it’s beginning to take hold as you finally realise you’re losing hold…
on the earth which once seemed to be everything bold.
Behold as you finally lose your grip, the sugar hits and you slip away from reality…
Bright blackness accompanies you…
Falling with you into your memories.
In the end they are one in the same. The truths enflame their brain and they lie their in pain. Denied the chance to finally give their name… blame those who got caught up in the game. The time is up… never again will you find yourself tamed and lame.
You’re free now. Enjoy the reign.
Just because the question hasn’t been asked doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ponder the answer.