#27

I slaughtered and buried my enemies,
And my friends I kept in the fridge.
Their pictures hang on the tapestries,
And their memories sound like the kids
Outside the home of depravity
The house where I used to live
Everyone alive has capacity,
But not everyone caves in.
Still we all want to be happy
And yet we love mortal sin
Pulled on blue gloves for examining
This heart that I am stuck with
I
Keep a graveyard out in the back, sneak the brave-hearts into a trap, weave my ramparts throughout the past.
Hey look, Making excuses will fail me,
Breaking or losing impales things.
Forsaking the gloom where the trails meet.
And if I'm realistic I lie and say that people change,
It would take a whole heart-shift to get that stage-
Out of a man who is used to the victims of violence-
Being part of a piece of that moment of silence or at least knowing that you made a mark on the quiet It was a time.
Now breath just waits in earnest, For the rising of the sun and the inception of discernment.