Imaginary Walls

The entire Universe is one giant grey area,

who are we to be so black and white?

Blood and fervor,

Hatred spit and spatter for sake of spite,


Lined up against imaginary walls of a blank square room,

the only language spoken is scroops and screams of apes,

this box erected by the feeble tools of days since past still holds true,

No doors nor windows, nothing but blackness amplified by the pools of dark blood,

never drying, never healing, always there, the blood of children,

the forced death of innocence, raped and left in a heap upon the floor,

All in the name of the others' savior,

Savior, what savior?

Slowly we drown in the endless pouring finite vessel of youthful blood,

heated and boiled by the smoking steel stacks sticking, stinking of sulfur in the atmosphere,

the leaves succumb to the coughing, numbing, stoutly polluted smell of death,



Them yet untainted by the stench of humanity?

they do not go there for fear of disease,

Forever alone in this cosmic ocean, by choice it seems


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