The very bad thing
Easily catches the mind
Making a full public appearance
It grabs the throat
Impedes the soul
Deafens the ears
Stamps the heart
Hoping to shower the eyes with glittery things
For a time, the world is stunned
Basking in this new found power
Only for some to open mouth and shout
“Liar, for hope does not come to accuse”
Dying spring of the savannah
Heal my bruised heels
Rest my tired mind
Trouble me out of sleep
So I may live through my words
Raise me through the veils of basic death
These times of revelations
Holds back the skin from shedding
But I digress not further
Instead the truth I stress
Is to press onto the blade of the truth
And taint no more
Living fore-more into one’s self
Digging deeper into the ditch of life
The tongue that never changed
Neither did the thread of soul
Only the rise for the hunger of our needs
So again must I digress further not?
Maybe until another night of Lucien
For under these starry stars the air blows hot
And the fan tries hard to best the fight
SIMPLE WORLD 