ACOG4X32JN8:12

They hear my words
From down wind.
They're here in herds
Yet still they sinned.

Look at my face
Then at yourself.
Is there a resemblance?
Carefully place
Guns on the shelf.
Where’s your benevolence?

You're not a dove,
Despite your tries.
But I see love,
In your sad eyes.

I wanted them to live a life like mine.
A simple life of love;
Of honesty.
But they just consume the bread and wine.
Obsessed with above,
And of me.

No Poetic Device

No longer can I mask it all.
It seems a lie, a fake, a cheat.
I can’t talk to you the same.
My word seem unnatural.
I used to say such beautiful things that pleased their ears and calmed their souls.
But now I speak the truth.
How unappealing that must be.
In the world I have crated, I have no need for such things anymore.
I have created a situation which is absent of charming manipulative words.
I enjoy it alone.
What is the painting in the dark corner room?
To discover would waist you time.
What ever it is, it’s covered in dust and has not seen light in ages.
This is not a mistake. Not at all.
Past eyes were unamused, and so am I.
Although I’ve stepped out of the valley of the green class doors,
My desires mirror its reflections.