untitled
By Neurosine
I chisled at bones, too awakened to see, the sculptures of yin-yangs, they were soon to be. I coughed up some poison, spat out some hate, forgot to act human, ...remembered too late. I sat on the corner and sharpened my axe, and pondered the flavor, of questions not asked. We're the blind and immoral, our souls in a sack, I hear if we join them, they might give them back. Remember their lies, don't try on their disguise, they speak very lonely, to what they despise. I don't want to be grease for the wheel. All I want's to be wise with free will. Written January 27th, 2002 © on Jan 26 2002 09:21 PM PST, Neurosine 0 • 10
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"I chisled at bones,..."