Borderline1978

A vilest bale of a mort complexion
Seemingly altruistic in his gait
But surface close to the shatter-point
Weakened smile of rictus hidden behind the masked inevitable falsehood
Not caring, feeling, or being
Existence fails
A paradigm of his own painful construct stands tall, with misplaced pride, but none else
A monolith to his avarice
Never learning, forever insidious and alone out of the soil into the sky the Angel of disease