Dogs of Discord


Light shines through the gaunt cheeks of children,
Yet we remain the dogs of discord, lonely little lords of circumstance
We sit and watch the offal fill the mechanical lower jaws of the boot-licking obscene and whimper before the tombs of war
Howl at the plague of the plastic oasis and seduce the suspicion of the sleepless tongue, let it turn like worms with a concrete spine

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Of mammon lament