There is an entry to the gate, cell exposure is eminent
toxins are found everywhere as our subconscious is subdued
There is something magnificent in the way the hammer retracts off the object it strikes
Colours echo our individual feeling, but have very little to do with our hearing
I don't mind that we are trapped in a bubble, I spend most time locked in a room
Each pause is another second for my heart to digest the flow of blood
I continue down the path and notice that there really isn't much respect for love
sure we all abuse the word and if it were wood the world would be covered in splinters
but unconditionally what ties us to a person where we see only their diamonds
I find some serial killers fascinating because like religious fanatics they are so set on their code of ethics and morals that conflict with our own.
And to the man and woman who prostitute themselves literally may they be honored for their honesty.
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