[Poetry of the masses]


silent show [let it go]

distilled rain water
collecting in cracked craters
on halved metal plates
shading over blood
no longer boiling
hidden in rudimentary tin
shielded from recognition
sketches, contracts, lies
in piles under discolored rags
wet and withered
from the apathetic answer
to a slowly dying prayer
in the reflections
of countless shattered windows
there were droplets of garnet
descendents of mournful memories
unreachable yet concrete
refracting directly in front of me
under its crimson rays
page after page of hypocrisy
overturned by building exasperation
decomposed letter by letter
line by line, story by story
til nothing remained but
charcoaled aspirations set adrift
by liberating currents
never to return

...Yeah, this pretty much sums up my mood. Sorry for the apathetic sounding poetry, people. It had to be done. :bomb: