Pick at crumbs,
Internal theories,
Myriad infernal queries
Paint the fence,
With palettes weary,
Delusional,
Delinquent fury
O' Precious text,
It stales the pain,
Of action and response so vain,
Adjacent to a windowpane,
Dazzling with wick and flame,
Haunting tattered holes,
It pokes,
In wicked and chromatic spokes,
Of shame
He fails to speak,
In only name,
He sighs as rows collect,
In floes of bated Hebrew twang,
Across the pages,
Drained of all their vibrant,
Shades of violence
Links to mental chains,
Attentive,
Intent on shunning,
So preventive,
It stalks the growing stall,
Of members,
Clamoring to kill the embers,
Clean and crisp,
The scent is wafting,
Fragrant with a spit,
Of lofting,
Ignorance...
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