Untitled 2.3.04

All of Me

This world, a bubble,

Is slowly deteriorating.

Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly.

Starting inside, not with revolutions,

Not with wars, no, farther inside.

Further within. Each family

A world in itself,

Where words can e nuclear bombs

And tears, silver bullets falling through the air.

The battle waged from jealousy,

Still rages. Blood still falls.

No treaties are ever made.

Instead it's just a game

Where no one ever wins.

And all who play

Fall broken to the board -

- angels without wings.

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