I plead the indoctrination of those who came before us and those who will after. Fledge the sheets wrapped around our ankles as we walk barefoot in the desert. The least of our worries surmount to incomparable atrocities of those who we beseech. Leave it to us to find peace.
It turns cold when the sun sets and we are able to say it is a better way for us to live. Bare feet running against the concrete. Loud noises about town. It surfaces and leaves us barren. Who took us there. Emotions it seems run parallel to the glass ceiling. Before it breaks we rule out all options and strive for normalcy amongst each other. Care to explain the pact you made with those at the bath house. It is a scent of will to task us to lift the youth by natural standards. It is a source of sour tastes and loud eyes that are rulers that gesture to the cow fields. We stalk them to greater heights.
Syncopath idiosyncrotic kneeling at the beach. Watching memories fade away. Least of all to expect. You to be here like the rest. Intimate cohersion. Ludacris sensation, Milistic nihilistic dilistic. Forward march.
