The Nothingness


This wicked intension lingers in my perception, like the smoke
that gathers over falling towers. Window howlers and lost loot
scowler's roam the broken streets in retribution. Disorderly
conduct on a new field of play. The crooked smiles of our scape
goat nation. Expectations on the boarder lines, with walls so
high the separate the false skies. A new nation with a made
up dedication, for a lack of better words no imagination. Till
we implode and rot away, like the words on this paper will
erode and decay.

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