Born to a world hell bent to the straight and narrow
No one can confide to the bind of the hive mind
A new set clad of broken arrows
Straight to narrow, narrow to straight
Like Houdini's born to escape
Pilgrims desperate in crusade
Against the parade of the all too familiar masquerade
Try to bend, snap they break
The genesis and the rapture
A all new broken arrow breaths
To face the dawn of day
YOU ARE READING
Symptoms
PoetryPoetry. Love. Happiness. Sadness. Depression. Guilt. Regret. Struggle and Confliction. We may all be breathing, we may all have our hearts beating. But these are our vital signs. These are symptoms that prove we're alive.
