The free verse

Apart from distant lives everything is combined, from the fruitless deeds
To the love of the shrine.
But never mind that,
Never will we choose the lessor of the evils; we just wanted to see what’s available.
What is tangible can easily be forgotten and burried underneath six feet of skeletons.
The sins rush in,
Waves of lust, failure, and regret,
Swimming deeper, sure to return to
Shore shortly after drowning in sin.
Silence severs rest,
Slicing in search of blood to cling to then clean up.
After washing off the residue
I’m sure this cycle will feel residential.
A place where residents rest on weary
Nights while ambition lands on the superficial surface of the mind
Then takes flight.
The sky is falling quietly, and we’re counting
The grass which seems to be greener
From the other side of the fence.


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