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hostile blues and ruptured works
we won't get what we deserve
crusade the fall
beauty is smashed and overwrought
opaque dreams of hardcore weeds family ties
and suicides oblivion and grace collide
falling victim to your eyes
falling victim to your mind
everything that we are built crashes on
trust rotting stilts damn those words
that we evade your low law order is
reduced to tears you won't rob me of
more good years it's more the abstract form
a fractured sound degenerative and breaking down
you will always learn to hurt
and we won't get what we deserve
today
©2014, Timothy James Swenson