clouds gasp fresh lightning one last breath before the breach roil finding a grave others brave a march
frightened children fire off rounds into tired crowds piranhas or gnats, they're gone to the blackened body count in the sky mumbling into ink sweat-stains strangle my letters and we lose faith in the post my days are falling into dangerous repitition cynic's stagnation flies overhead the life where nothing is worth complaining over
the lightning boy sleeps, for sure but I can see him clearly now tumultuous dream
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