bassbastard

These Games

Your sins of omission speak louder than the things that you sayThe blood of the fallen washes over the fields that you

Lost to the maelstromstoned; numb to the pain that could allow growthjoining in the ecstasy branded with the tribal oath Chosen ones

See it shining into the grey that is every daya glint of something that isn’t background noiseit almost wakes you it has

Seeing life through lenses that only the poor children have Third hand Velcro shoes and can’t even see the better halves Cardboard

I’ve been listeningevery time that you spokeyour virtue signalsare nothing but smoke The nattering of you fertilemind is in the plottingyou’ll only