Father Of Falsehood

M Melvina Germain Melvina Germain
0 Altın Yaprak
Once again the red evil fire burned my belly raw. After a celebration for no one, danced a jig within my brain. I dove into my mind like the funneling winds, hurling sticks and stones against blocked membranes bouncing back lying still, never to be discovered by outsiders. Oh yes, trapped in the subconscious state of euphoric capitalism, lying to myself for nothing is mine. False happiness exudes me, pretentious sinner, thief in the night and day. Wrapped in a dismal veil of emptiness, I ponder promises made, never to come true for my word was nothing more than a bottomless glass leaking catastrophic trauma over a country standing still. Promised leaders of gold turned to nickles and dimes. The fog hovered over cities, extending it's mist like fingers around a multicultural forest of innocent beings afraid to spread the word. As these feathered beings display their lack of fortitude standing in silence, the floor falls beneath them and I render myself drowned in alcohol soup. There will be no kingdom, no place left to lead. The cannons will strike and all who hold their post will die. This ending had no true beginning, for the beginning was a massive lie. Written by: Melvina Germain Date: Dec.4/2011

Bu şiire çeviri ekle ·

Bu şiiri puanla

Henüz puan verilmemiş

Yıldıza dokunarak 1–10 arası puan ver

Yorumlar

Yorum yapmak için giriş yapmalısın.

Giriş yap

Bu şiire henüz yorum yapılmamış. İlk sen ol.

Sana daha iyi bir okuma deneyimi sunabilmek için sitemizde çerez kullanıyoruz. Kişisel verilerin KVKK ve GDPR kapsamında işlenir; hangi çerezlere izin verdiğini dilediğin zaman değiştirebilirsin.