A want for destruction Held by A lack of faith In the oneself Wrapped in your Pious hope Choking on Identity indignation And the suffering

Author River Dixon
A want for destruction Held by A lack of faith In the oneself Wrapped in your Pious hope Choking on Identity indignation And the suffering
The glory of the passing Shared among the weak Claimed by the strong Hold it up with pride Bear witness to this Ignore as my
I can’t remember How many days it’s been Lost in these hours Through deep exhale The crisp autumn air Burns cold With each inhale There’s
I have seen an old woman Sitting in a rocking chair The warmth of the desert sun Shining on her through the front window Surrounded
Was it a sequence Of words Drifting in and out Like the last time I tried to sleep Through the Drowning sands With silica dreams
I can hold you In my arms And tell you All the lies You’ve been longing To hear And mean Every word I say Because