Beneath

The endless dronning of sing song happy go lucky faces moaning and breathing a sensless cacophany of meaningless sentiment through chain link grins stretched and cut into perfect slits underneath a dead eye glare is the reason.....the reason.....the reason that the song remains insane the reason that the pain becames ingrained the reason the earth is black and stained.....The pain the pain the pain is the reason why the bees have gone to play where the flys avoid the light of day...where it waits to devour the flowers it once fed......where it waits to wake the dead the dead. Our matter is but a bit of cosmic spatter left behind as a stain of what once was and will be again. So here I sit turning the dials spinning the wheels and checking the angles in this dirty bunker beneath the bomb shell barrage of thunder and rain benath the light of day .