Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Thought Crime

It has become a fact, illusions arrive
stale and thirsty
electing ruin upon the Earth
in corrupt uniforms
and a dark period.
Do they serve rank like rancid meat?
Coated with sugar (in surplus too)
like they're sweet and affectionate?
It could be they're hollow
like a stolen grave.
Or will they detonate?

by James Jason Dye

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