I Don't Know Either

Divine mouthpieces and crushed marionettes

Tainted carnation skies

Pedals of skin and tears

Softly under splintered foot

Green stained glass



Buying the bovine prophets

Surges of injustice and two-faced shades of gray

And I tilt my eyes up

Moisten my lips

And catch the crashing fumes

Of a world with a tired pulse

View strumbles06's Full Portfolio