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ishmyre-of-the-inferiorsPoems
We've seen the Angel of Death Coerced- his hands we become His hollow countenance, our own So many numbered wretches Disguised as hollow drones Stalk the night Fighting non-existent thrones The empty expression, brow bent in deep thought The humans we used to be A garden of seedlings in desperate need The tide rises quickly These ideas can save us Or they can tear us apart Once we've destroyed the concept Of the celebrated self and love of art We can begin the process of growing up Completely spent We bit the apple, bought the lie Exploited the poor and boy did we rise We snapped those necks and boy did we thrive
0
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
Subversion of the Defectives...
We've seen the Angel of Death Coerced- his hands we become His hollow countenance, our own So many numbered wretches Disguised as hollow drones Stalk the night Fighting non-existent thrones The empty expression, brow bent in deep thought The humans we used to be A garden of seedlings in desperate need The tide rises quickly These ideas can save us Or they can tear us apart Once we've destroyed the concept Of the celebrated self and love of art We can begin the process of growing up Completely spent We bit the apple, bought the lie Exploited the poor and boy did we rise We snapped those necks and boy did we thrive
ishmyre-of-the-inferiors
Written by
ishmyre-of-the-inferiors
American
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
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