Your beautiful mind is shrouded by our abyssmal surrounding
The jarring ruckus composed of voices with nothing to say, comitting lustful and spiteful acts just as confounding
You buzz around the gun shots in the night from the heated exchanges of the afternoon, and relish spreading the news in the morning
Yet we all hate the mourning

Your thoughts float along a tributary of violence, carrying too much weight not to be dragged under by the venomous current
And you love it

If only one ambition I could bring to fruition, if only one purpose I would be a leal servant
It would be to abruptly uproot you from this concrete savannah,
this rolling plain of debauchery,
this collaboration of skullduggery,
this tundra of treacherous trollops

And replant you firmly in view of the sun,