What's the toll of life?
Where we grow to bestow only death
A dragged out decomposition you could say
Whence the moon rises
Seemingly time refines the earth
Sputtering spit from swollen lungs,
Livid with the filth of the morning blues.
Linguistic lunacy and the pursuit to persecute those who fear freedom
Somber seclusion
The color drains from the walls
Like this hallway is a home.
