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Joshua Scott Feb 2017
Always ticking

Green to brown to green again
Red to black
There's no escape until they sing

Smiling satyrs
And shreiking martyrs
Know it all too well

But through the dual camera lenses
It won't ever make sense

The golden discs
And fringed rims
And echoing chambers
Cannot hold a candle

To the soil.
Joshua Scott Dec 2016
I saw a ghost in my room
As the sun rose
He drifted near as I sat up in bed
I could see him in the mirror
Mocking me
Whispering lies
Or truths I refused to hear
I told him he died long ago
between forgotten memories
And pointless feelings
And he said "No, I'm just sleeping. For a while longer still."
And he faded away
Into the morning air

— The End —