What Future
What future
Enter rapture bleed into her seams
Mercy less the broken screams dress the beds of dying dreams
Art upon gallery halls serve to camouflage cracked facade walls
Violator blood red rose thorn the fibre of one’s clothes
Ensnared betwixt web and flow the painting
Doth it’s tell show
Haunting fear within their eyes
Echoed by the masses cries
Knowing come this day end
Answer must !
What future ? ?
Copyright © Christopher Flaherty | Year Posted 2011
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