Living, breathing, dying at the whim of saviours.

Like a mouth purging quiet with poor statement,
Like strings assigning echoes to valleys,
Like bombs killing children,
Like bombs killing us,
Like vampires draining souls from willing proles,
Like tigers pulling teeth from their own savage mouths,
Like smoke rising and replacing clouds,
Like jousters skewering hearts,
Like gifts becoming darts,
Like vomit becoming food,
Like Nazis becoming Jews,
Like jokes bringing frowns,
Like politicians dressed as clowns,
Like climate sold in a package,
Like change reported as damage,
Like our times being raped,
Like our art becoming product,
Like our art becoming trend,
Like our art becoming disease…

Dismal light finds purchase in the wrath of shadow, making quaint that dark avenue. Like a cancer eating away the black, it forces the darkness into recession, a truth can be incoherent, but tales of lost revenue may sate you.
One day I will show you my dream. There are many stories occurring at once, they intersect only in our imagination. Reality is arbitrary. It was once the sea, but now the sea is contrived. It is now the rogue wave that rushes through the tide. It means nothing, and nothing is everything. Silence is a difficult canvas to paint and we have the poorest colours.

Like nothing but the worst,
Like nothing but the best,
Who knows the difference?