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#blindeye
these quiet soft bodies in the forest are suffering there is an endless question in the mouths of the rivers there are scoundrels dressed in foggy black smoke making peace with themselves while killing everyone else their canines sharp, their chilling howling winds making the spirits’ hair stand on edge these quiet soft bodies in the woods are suffering there is a constant pounding of war drums beyond the horizon buried underneath silk-spinning spiders and fool’s gold there are ghastly ghosts shrieking for eternity in their eternal vacant brains their tepid seething souls scavenging the abandoned corpses like vultures these quiet soft bodies in the darkness are suffering there is a hazy fog that blinds the earth from the heathens that have been buried in vain they have bulging eyes and stigmatic circumstances protruding through the silence tempestuousness swirling beneath their feet as in a hurricane churns up the foamy water they see red coals and embers in the cores of any sane soul they will gag you with a temper, leaving anger imprinted on your skin   these quiet soft bodies in the emptiness are suffering their cries for help are being intercepted by the government that birthed them leaving them to be swallowed by the jet-black monsters that lurk in the shadows there is a mask that is worn over their heads before their sense gets scraped off of their skin they never have to feel a thing, the gashes only give a sense of victimhood these quiet soft bodies in the nothingness are suffering they are getting eroded away, thrown up in flames, spewing out ****** teardrops they are hunted down and shot, seasoned perfectly and oiled the trees groan from the fumes exuding up beyond the sky line their branches fall off as they look the other way, vapid in their deliberations
0
Mar 7, 2023
Mar 7, 2023 at 8:21 PM UTC
LVjKnKS1608
there is a virus feeding on our brains
these quiet soft bodies in the forest are suffering there is an endless question in the mouths of the rivers there are scoundrels dressed in foggy black smoke making peace with themselves while killing everyone else their canines sharp, their chilling howling winds making the spirits’ hair stand on edge these quiet soft bodies in the woods are suffering there is a constant pounding of war drums beyond the horizon buried underneath silk-spinning spiders and fool’s gold there are ghastly ghosts shrieking for eternity in their eternal vacant brains their tepid seething souls scavenging the abandoned corpses like vultures these quiet soft bodies in the darkness are suffering there is a hazy fog that blinds the earth from the heathens that have been buried in vain they have bulging eyes and stigmatic circumstances protruding through the silence tempestuousness swirling beneath their feet as in a hurricane churns up the foamy water they see red coals and embers in the cores of any sane soul they will gag you with a temper, leaving anger imprinted on your skin   these quiet soft bodies in the emptiness are suffering their cries for help are being intercepted by the government that birthed them leaving them to be swallowed by the jet-black monsters that lurk in the shadows there is a mask that is worn over their heads before their sense gets scraped off of their skin they never have to feel a thing, the gashes only give a sense of victimhood these quiet soft bodies in the nothingness are suffering they are getting eroded away, thrown up in flames, spewing out ****** teardrops they are hunted down and shot, seasoned perfectly and oiled the trees groan from the fumes exuding up beyond the sky line their branches fall off as they look the other way, vapid in their deliberations
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26
I went to a place, I called it my home. How was I supposed to know, It would leave me all alone. Depressed everyday, They told me nothing. The few good souls, Would make it amazing. The authority is ******** It didn’t even look at me. Wanted to make money, Didn’t want to help my sanity. I begged them to change, They turned a blind eye. Left a depressed kid, Sad and very lied.
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Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 10:49 PM UTC
rooktime
Catalyst
I went to a place, I called it my home. How was I supposed to know, It would leave me all alone. Depressed everyday, They told me nothing. The few good souls, Would make it amazing. The authority is ******** It didn’t even look at me. Wanted to make money, Didn’t want to help my sanity. I begged them to change, They turned a blind eye. Left a depressed kid, Sad and very lied.
Continue reading...
16