The script is never finished
This rewritten bogle of the once poetic mind
Is now just a lonely road
to non sensual loving words
Leading to a heart,  with nothing to show except for its deadening one way street for the broken and untrusting.
This world burns of fire, as it freezes our soul.
Stopping life in its tracks
Painting some abstract strokes
Of a now still life.
Of a life that was, once known
This battered city of the hopeful hearted has devoured every dream
And blackened all its goals
Leading the newly blind
To steal and collect there souls
Rewritten words,
claimed as new thoughts
Piles of guilt
Innocence now lost
Rewritten is this script
Taking from all its originality
Claimed by others as knowing
Known by me
As never learnt.