Sorrowfully eyes cry to be appeased
I’ll try tomorrow to fulfil their needs
Pierce hollow greed follow one’s creed
We’re faulty imperfect beings
Shadows fall on graves of the forlorn
Witness days born before dawn
Tall horns warn those ghost invaders
Holes and thorns are what they made us
Those figures left as depressed silhouettes
laced with distress Witnessed death
in the lens of a long day
Some go right some go the wrong way
Heavenly dark should spark prayers
But parked instead in my nightmares
Eyes’ wondering for the right type cares
Thundering nightlight flight life flairs
