by 
Sometimes we live in a warped sense of reality.
Past apparitions and flights of bestiality.
Prolonged journeys of self inflicted pain
Wandering this life in search of sustenance and capital gains.
Holding on to the rotting stench of hop e and love
Praying to someone above
Until the day of the dark red sky approaches
Leaving you dirty, naked, alone, and out in the great salt slick
Its coming quick
The real world and the fact that your time is done
There’s no more to do, to give, to fight for
Succumb to mediocrity
Failure and the looming promise of death
by