God Is Breathing, At Least

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Exhaustion


Replicated by perfection


an attempt to dissolve lead


lodged in the hearts of those we defeat


healed only through dirty nostalgia 


and a broken bottle found in New York


It was the end of all days


Back in August


When the vision of those on the streets were hazy


The day the wire frame of redemption recedes


is the day it can no longer cope with the humidity of summer


The nights soon after


It often rained


Heat lighting struck across the battered skies


and something far more powerful brought upon splitting headaches


The ocean found a new home


No longer stuck in the earth


But within the unseeing eyes of others


And so



Those truly capable of breathing


have experienced the Atlantic drought


Taken by the bugs within ones stomach


The dogs continuously barked


The cats hunted and whined


The peopled screamed and begged


And disease laughed in their scowling faces


The lack of control brought upon by an unseen god


Ruined us as a whole


As we soon realize


It was all just a mirage


Created by the stinging salt clouding our vision


And though the human race will never wake


Perhaps it will never matter


If we can collectively understand


without being understood


or fully understanding


Then maybe


just maybe


we can live. 













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