Time in argument will end

Flames of preparation

Fingers felt the whipping

Hand that feeds the flame



Escalate the drought

Itching to join the fray



Wishing darkness was sound

shutting desires out

Wishing darkness was sound

but as moths to the flame...

...we go



You the ignorant

take sides in these three dimensions

Nullify importance

confined within the page



Scan for raoture again

look for an instant save



Mere moments pass and still it seems

detached from insight, thought and word

Ever since it lost its edge

lost in the noise forever be

in the blur of information

the nail that never sticks



Venting a foul stench

purging the fevered self

behind a traitor's name



Face the consequence

taken back in the eyes of fairness

A nobody forever

hidden and locked away



Working the boards again

Giving the wrath away