• fletch 9w

    Time sleeps where the ashes of yesterday go to mourn.

    Darkness clouds judgment leaving tired eyes swollen and worn.

    Dismayed imprints leave bittersweet scars starving for truth.

    As distortions of apathy abort sins of the youth.

    The stories we tell ourselves reek of vanity.

    Days of never-ending strife steal our compass of sanity.

    A Hallelujah is erased by a broken white line.

    As furiousity chimes in stealing the world of its shine.

    Whimsy endeavors are lost in a sea of red.

    A shamans harvest is produced from a disease of dread.

    The rain falls angry on a tin roof.

    Where love and hate are burdens from a life of proof.
    ©fletch