By Arcassin Burnham

The city of angels won't pull you out of reality,
The peelings of your skin that brushes mine
To band together with a force that the demons
Couldn't overthrow if they could or would take
Over the millions of brains that record memory
That forces demonic empathy upon the weak
And defenseless,
Let's ,
Be careful with overbearing sessions of being
Jealous of one another by default and ones
Short comings,
I swear I seen this coming.