The ****** sun rises
To meet the green
boys preparing.

I watch the day divide.

Alas, if my story end here
Let it be one of courage
Not rage
Let it be of a human
Not a boy

Let my name be lost among the fallen
My soul forsaken among the ******
Let my story wrap its arms
around my brothers.
Let my death be life for them.

O! The gift I wish to give.
The sacrifice I face for them.
If my story end here
Let theirs live on.

What of those who place themselves in others?
Why, death.

The fool who trusts a stranger
Who can not see the buds
Of a flowering enemy
Revealed to be mine own self
Death awaits.

They've stolen, taken myself
By force, by sweet poison words
****** my life's marrow
Death comes to me

A friend,
That mortal sheet to lift
And I will emerge
Anew.

The doer
Is merely a fiction
Added
To the deed.

Some construct of morality
And self prescribed validity
Justifies the doer manipulates the language
Clarifies the plot

The deed.

The empty space between
Existence


And thought.

What is matter matters
And what matters do we find
Plausible?

Wing tipped tongues
Utter madness as their wings fly away.
It's art. Like a trash bag floating down an empty street.
Empty words float and circulate the masses.

Consumables.
We eat media, satisfied by garbage.
Wiping the latest episode of Tiger King off our chins,
We chomp on clickbait desserts.

The writers, thinkers, and philosophizers
starve.

Searching for anything with substance
they revisit old watering holes.
The marrow has been ****** from literature,
The cave is too real to re-enter,

But there is a rumble from within.

Weak but present.
The uprising is upon us!
Writers, Thinkers, and Philosophizers, rise!

Rise and pluck the birds from the sky,
steal their wings and soar.
Soar across time and spread the wisdom that has been bestowed upon you.

Orange face, war paint,
The White House wrapped in caution tape.
Right to ****, lives at stake,
I wonder when we'll get a break?

Sickness prevails,
the devil's in the details.
Bees are dying, nations crying,
Natural disaster underlying.

Wear a mask,
It's not a task.
Save yourself and stay at home,
Frontline heroes are not alone.

Look to the sky, look to the sea,
this fresh hell is reality.

I must caution you,
Against a world lacking conflict.

A wold enveloped in
Continual peace
is hell.

Without suffering,
Without anger,
There is no passion.

A world wothout conflict
Is a wold lacking the beauty of sacrifice
The love of conviction
The satisfaction of righting a wrong.

I must caution you,
Without wrongdoing, without war
There is no peace
Just
Consistancy.

Life doesn't have rules
it's nOt all laid out the the beginning
on clean paper
in black
And white.

Some say there is a plan,
some say there is nothing.
I Try to follow direction,
but there is none to follow.