hidden visions are easily exploited by hissing voices,
each chiseled choice shapes present endeavors and future loyalties
even if molded in screams
our chosen schemes will break holds and escape to swim golden streams
ropes and nets connect us to oceans and beliefs,
met and corrected in peace,
even yet the blessings of truth are wrecked and deceased from an elective disease...
weep for lost babylon,
the bleeding god, the forgotten sheep slaughtered in a forest of evil fog
bordered by a sea of faults,
fleeing mobs turn to see the holocaust and become kings and queens of salt
screaming shots, police and chalk,
wingless fallen demons walking among us as people...