Solace and Tremendous Patience / Abandon Flesh/ Abandon Quarantine.

Sour echoes of innocence lost,
Permeates into untouched porcelain skin uncarved by desire.
The pale motion of trembling lips, blubbering lullabies
'Neath a waterfall of tears
Staining the cheeks from emotional wounds so dear.

Only to be left staring at the deserts of palm, from holden hands lost.
What can be touched now? What feeling can be grasped here?
Does it matter when there is no place, no desire?


And the Universe proclaimed to be nothing more than a poet,
And sheer laughter was spent before and cost nothing more,
By words we find the descriptions that stretch from our Godless throats.


War and money, bullets or freedom, no more of discovery,
Just more distractions to maintain the ratio of birds and stones
In a scenery of praise, to that little bit of God
That resides in all of us, representing hate in it's varying statements

With our bodies and souls to sell for millions,
Our voices and words to manipulate majorities.
Twisted in the existential promises of others, we attain
Nine-to-five suicides to pay for our picket fences
With broken smiles of shattered teeth,
Swiping credit cards across wrists of abandonment.