apathy resolves
into waste
rotting like dreams
in the midday sun
why should it
take violent storms
or the deviant
appetites of pale men
when he
who shall not be obeyed
clearly longs
to remand us into custody
of perpetual winter
locked in forgotten cages
to atone
for our sins perhaps a death
or two
perhaps thousands
beginning at the end
blind
to the gold
they hide behind
we choose each other
hearts ocean wide
because even a sip
of despair
is bitter poison and we
have drained the bottle
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
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