Dull

thiscausticautumn

The coveting of mystery is not what it used to be.
So silent, we sway as if there was nothing wrong.
So I keep away from me as you get the best of me.
This violent reaction brings longing and painful new poison.

This humbling history is worse than it looks,
so silence me and sing that song if you must.
My enemies have sworn to show where the shadows
took the hybrid new passion as we belong to painful
new poison and the hope that all is not lost.

Burning sweet and blistering,
the silence outweighs wondering.
Swallowed deeper as we slip away.
Vibrant compassion is the currency of pain.
Burnt sweet and buried,
that silent page is outweighed by all that’s left of wandering.

The coveting of misery is not what it used to be.
In silence we sway as if there was nothing wrong.
So I keep away from me as you get the best of me.
This violent reaction brings longing through the butcherous
liberties taken in your sweet name.
Compliance and subtraction are echoes of when nothing went wrong.