Monday, February 16, 2009

Cover

We make this our own by using force.
Violence, to put down any resistance.
Violence.
The threat of death is the root of all authority in a world with no afterlife.
I have only this life, this world to treasure.
The threat of it being taking away from me controls my every waking moment.
Bound by a lack of faith and an unending fear of loss i am one with this life.
We all hope for clarity as do we hope for silence and the din of growth.
Nothing is in a straight line, of what we can see there is more.

Hidden thieves lie with a smile that could deliver sight to the blind.

Men peer at men.
Contemplating their lives, examining their own features.
Grooming those they love, watching some fade and others bloom.
In fresh soil, an equal playing field for all.

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