Friday, May 27, 2016


Blood will dry up,
Within my fingernails,
Tears will be shed,
Until the flood,
Is stopped by the shooting,
Of the storms,
That keep raging on,
So far away,
Drifted from the shore,
Trying to claim,
The game of the streets,
One that cheats upon,
The sharing,
For the caring,
Is not what she desires to get,
Love is a different thing,
When you've been fed,
By love in bed,
That does not contain,
Caressing rather then pain,
Then the plain putting down,
Of what is growing up,
When the trill of it all,
Is more wishful thinking,
Then the fall,
When his hands around necks,
Crack another head,
My fingers will no longer control,
The goal of the fire,
Flyers your blood around,
As confetti on a carnival,
The flesh will be shred,
The meat will be eaten,
Until the dried blood,
Underneath my fingernails,
Is the only representative,
That could present the case,
It's drying contained your dying.

Shattered existence of existing.

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