Oblivion

That’s a lot of blood

I can’t wash out

That’s a lot of bruises

I can’t scrub off

That’s a lot of love

That I can’t have

That’s a lot of memories

I can’t escape

I replay

The same dream everyday

Meaninglessness of murder

A whisper of Sanity

Little pieces of humanity

More screaming

Less pain

More moods

On this Flesh

In these molecules

On the soil

Under the rocks

Between the worms

And spiders

Deterioration and the decomposition of a former person

The apathy

The forgotten

Forsaken

By people, by society, by Gods, by memory

Did they ever exist

What did they accomplish

And who will remember



The warped messages of a warrior’s image

The thoughts only held inside and never spoken aloud

All these visages and the languages of a mind not confessed

The humans stealing the belongings of the muses

Never allowing the dead any rest

Not that Graves should exist forever

But it is doubted centuries ago those living beings wanted to be gawked at as skeletons

What could we learn from the past that we ignore in the present

Why do we love the dead when we don’t respect the living

Why don’t you respect yourself when you mangle your appearance because of others

Emotions killed when ideas couldn’t

Nature destroyed when humanity assaulted it

The wind blows away the evidence of the water drowning and eroding

The trees crushed, the animals mauled, the rocks tumbled, the snow froze, the rain choked, the lighting struck, the fire scorched, the sun burned, the air spread poisons.

Nature didn’t murder, only did ideas

Why do we have them

We won’t when we’re gone