Grazing-Sheep

Such rays, dwindle the invention of man like sunblock in the artic. They flash and gleam; striking faith and dream. Yet mean, nothing. Those blinding beams, trapping dieing desire for fire, don't need to choose. It might as well, light us all aflame. Because we try to force decision; upon mindless spheres of gas. Yet we, are not to blame. We ask and cry, a heavenly ply; like human flesh ain't made of sin. We call and heave for death to leave; like life's so great a gin. But; it might as well, light us all aflame. Like the skin of man is so great a land; and holy tears, fall for us. Like the pain and blood s

In the eyes of the feathered crow: So down, so alone; Losing a grip On what's once, So forlorn, so honed. Loosened to fit; On life's perspectives. As it flies and dies; In the golden wasteland. Heat and sound, Tamper the vision; On the obvious, and What's meant to be gifted. No color, No rhythm, No sense of justice. As the man with the gun; Destroys his wishes. In the eyes of the feathered crow: Gutted and skewered, by; A bullet's: surviving hope. Barely breathing its, Impossible murder. As it lies for dead: In the scorching weather. In the red eyes, Of a broken bird: Not meant to fly, When its wings; As bleak as,

Categorized safely, sung as sinking, thought as useless, seemed so stupid. Creaking windows; how they flow, how they suit thoughts of sorrow. Corroding flesh; how it follows saddened brows. Creaking windows; addictive sounds, which drive us mad and turns us wild. Leaving us, so alone. Negative thinking, sets up murder; creaking music, brings thoughts further. Creaking windows; leave me alone? Thoughts are sinking, life is whisking, minds are crazing into stone. Creaking windows, my ears are bleeding, thanks to your, constant leaning. My eyes are burning, my thumbs are twitching, thanks to your, endless weaving.

And as that noise pierces, your thoughts. As it engraves its motive, on insignificant population. Along with others; I shall dress for domination. Far from, the fools who cry and shame; along with fathers, mothers, baby-sitters. Towards, the hills that dwindle expectation; zombie brothers, with no motive to kill. My feelings, my sorrow shall keep on; but still: I shall dress, with bow ties, dark penguin suits, and valued crocodile shoes. I shall dress, as shrapnel falls, disease lulls, into happiness. Until I see, that towering metal sing such beautifully hateful song: You shall notice me; dressed nice, co

Reflection- damnation brought forth; a mere lake, to wash it all away. Let it stay, ripple as it may. As pebbles; tango along sand, except when they dance, for us. Expect a last chance: there'd be, no golden water. Only evidence of; a lake of fire. Deviant Hypocracy; cause' they've, no Queen. Malicious Justice, done by, Human Being. We shall, burn, burn, burn; along with: the trees, the fishes, the seas. We shall be doomed, downed by hierarchy. All the while, aqua stifles: last occurances. Even as, idiosyncrasy drowns; fervent surfaces. We shall, burn, burn, burn; all in style, by this, Lake of Fire. We

Tremble from that, noise that Spring aspires. We've nothing to know but vegetation. We as beings of e-reality; an imaginative world where we eat what we make. Climbing ladders with determination, stating facts like we know, what's at stake. Time will pass and it won't matter. We don't care if we get fatter. For even a soothing song that birds might sing; shall never overcome our ideas of Spring. For until, we suffer mass hysteria, perhaps mass heart attacks; the things we lack, the shit we know ain't fact. Shall never adhere to those fallacies. For until, we bomb and things turn pretty; fighting idiots that