#lawlessness
the path lays trodden;
a milestone, leads to nowhere;
somewhere down, a leaf floats -
mid-air - to the whims of the cold breeze,
afraid to touch the bitter ground.
the soldiers are afoot;
marching to the sound
of static, broadcast by their
unreliable leaders.
the innocent seek asylum -
flee from states of unrest;
the power seems absolute -
hardly dynamic;
pistols aim for the heads;
warheads aim for the heads -
of nations - all trying to outperform
each others’ retribution;
panzers guard the rogue bases,
like hellhounds, starved of souls.
mothers kiss their babes, ‘--night’,
then wipe their hapless tears;
fathers beg for their sons’ lives,
and their daughters’ honour;
God exists only in afterthoughts;
ceremonies shroud in silence;
children become too self-aware
for their undemanding ages;
schools shut their gates -
push them further into the nightmare;
tell them they don’t belong;
one of them’s had enough…
pushes back.
Dec 25, 2024
Dec 25, 2024 at 1:34 AM UTC
Truth trampled
Lies reigned
Beauty usurped
Vulgarity valued
Turning not the other cheek
but kills to assert the right to ****
Power not to curb lawlessness
but to empower lawlessness
The soul tormented
In ashes and sackcloth
A voiceless silent cry cries
all day and all night
The day descends
inexorably into darkness
But for the sliver of moon
there is no reason to hope
The spirit awaits the dawn
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 12:49 AM UTC
Even as holy books do not make you holy,
keeping the law do not make you moral.
But sin shows itself most sinful
making mass murders and most ****** carnage holy.
And lawlessness hides behind the law
sulking and pouting in the White House.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 12:04 AM UTC
air smells lavender,
spring day turns rambunctious,
love breaks all the rules!
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
I am in levels. Past levels. This deep, intrinsic wonderful lost, the lawlessness of its fascinating expenditure of excite. Pushing through the wild and feral snow-dusted plains and timber ridges. Like red-spotted dots breathing through the cylinders called the spine. This descends into a narrow channel of scantly clad greenish scenery in a time-soaked visionary wilderness of snow,
Our crab legs dancing down wiry purple highways, our heads could not even look backwards if we had wanted.
Furious, love-latitudes, stalking breaths thwacking fork-ended tongues into a pinkish knot buried into the first layer of organic membrane on this railway of miniature canals, showing. And their pride snuck into the elbows, shooting down each vertebrae as it stepped with great precision every ledge that the currency emphasized. The raw accumulation of stolen heart-beats rattling between the interstices of new fuel careering these red engines. Crashing with exquisite pleasure into one another.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC