Successpool; For the Infirm.

When the rare occurrence unfolds,
of the answers overlapping the answers we need,
What good becomes of us?
Our burdens trap us in binding spells,
Keeping us blinded to the art that is ourselves.
Well I don't know if I can stand this much longer.
The patience we had in those days of old
Has been muffled by the march of our impatient bones,
Bye bye to the light,
Save your breath for when we decimate the buildings we made.
Sharpening the beak, breaking and entering.
Casualties make no such sense of worry,
cowards will kill everyone in the room.
Change is coming, prepare for exile from the world of tomorrow.
I marched through my pride, striking fear throughout the valleys.
In the light that we see much clearer more recently,
We gain dust in the crevices we kept close to our hearts.
Unless you've got a better idea,
I suggest we wake from our comas and self induced vomiting.