Fear-shaped autumn of surreal tragedies,
and our ashes shall be scattered
over the neon rust city
in their mutiny where I sense the breaking,
a preaching fusillade of artificial smiles
where we have to breathe ether.
Too embraceful and vain.
May be I even believed
once
but
no more.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
Fear-shaped autumn of surreal tragedies,
and our ashes shall be scattered
over the neon rust city
in their mutiny where I sense the breaking,
a preaching fusillade of artificial smiles
where we have to breathe ether.
Too embraceful and vain.
May be I even believed
once
but
no more.