untitled: inexistence no consequence of conquest retest morals built upon today decay only reason for their being becoming nothing but key for rusted lock clock circles the fingers hands drawing rust upon canvas of fertile organs when control is a sin autonomy frowns in realization of what has been done unto us his children dead dreams speak from the past trying lying future tries to be dead as wellness sets in in hospitality inhospitable fit in just fucking conform no reform for times changing clothes naked for one second but what we need plead for change but we really want nothing nothing to wear with no where to go 2001101101tid242
nothing: flowers leaves planted garden destined only try though never succeed as leaves falter fall down upon brown dead ground gladly accepts its own failed future promises weigh heavily upon such forsave-forsaking grace glides glides softly and gently killing away all resentment of failure leaving flowers in vain should try to feel blood dripping from smiles masking a dying costed so much lust in a garden growing only the pretty become weeds though never weeded and in the end they all die, all cry, all try in vain spilled nectar never found in dead pedals sorrow the smiles hide mask sorrow 2001101201tid242