Saturday 27 September 2014

Stained Sparks

The woods are wet
with the piss of revolution
everyone lost in their
anger lead mazes,
only see the dark in this
raging fire.

Shall I leave this world
for another
or
stay put my friend?

I run and trip.

'Help' they yell
and I see a spark
in the drenched woods;
soon they burn
in bloodied innocence.

But,
there is a man I see
the man with the spark
whose life's stained
with a million others
and I know
you know

it's me.

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