Moored to anguish with twine made of hedonism
The most desired material thing dissolves in our palms
Too much is oppression, nothing left to rescue, but love
Lift this reality into the black space between the stars
Paint over the old piece with patience strokes of revolution
Every short breath exhales us closer to nothingness
Each dream unpeels the hopelessness of the wasteland
Heroes with murdered tongues, don’t even attempt to speak
Wretchedness protruding from wounded writhing bodies
The shrieks of urgency rendered dim by fleeting infatuations
Hypnotizing us with titillations, to forget the
reverberations of courage
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