How We’ve Become

Foolish man
He must die
For these sins he creates
Of just his own back
Dark foreboding walls
Greet him, paradise lost
He of his wage of sin
Falling forever
In his thematic rumination
Emanating wistful diseased mind
Sickens by the feelings within
Forgetting the indulgence
The lies; live the reality
Become the iconoclast
Having his expectations
Wiped and disappointed
The final cycle, sacrificed
Crying within his warped shadow.

VMV June 2013

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