I have done a great deal of things.
In the name of nothing.
Self preservation.
Fickle is thou.
Yet jest through feats of strength.
As this convoluted mirage passes by..
So much blood has been split.
A multitude of coppery pennies in the mouth.
Can one wash out blood.
With more blood..
A question pulled upon.
With every strike of the hammer.
Can there still be salvation.
Redemption..
How is it that one can still look into the eyes of others.
And smile.
Knowing full well of the pollution inside.
Waiting to consume.
And spread.
How much longer can these staples hold.
Before they too will slip.
And unravel.