A mask to bleed through
The source unknown
The stone this was written on is broken now.
Willed level columns toppled with fakes of wit.
Cares and polite reluctance —gone— All blown away.
Smoldering books are only light if you see like us
Speared thoroughly through heart and loin and earth.
Warm welcomes always with burning tires and drums.
Strange to see how suicidal nature really is.
You’d expect to be immune to blight if you look like us
Here we are again
Obscure redeemers see perfect health and glory pass.
Falling asleep again, to a sharply flickering throne.
In the end your worries disappear, together with the thorn.
Here we are again. A base to build nothing on