Hungry, Covered Mortals
As crafted neatly within a metal box,
My minds and feelings are meant to be left alone.
Won't they understand
I need to be closed off to see the true light of day.
They worry for things they should hear
Or better yet,
Something they want to hold dear against my name.
It is a shame, I pity them for many reasons.
One for only living in the shades of beautiful trees
That lay upon the dry land that bears no water.
Driving out anything that would mark their existance,
These beings slip inbetween the air and pleasure
To be viewed only in the crack of your nightmares.
I know it is diffcult to not comphrend how they feel,
But for a victim to be felt, they must have been an oppressor before.
The skies dominated the seas over many miles
With the mercy of one's feet.
Innocence lies inside one's quiet guilt.
We are reminded for our safety when blood is spilled.
However, our fuels combine against others to form a worse outcome.
A passion that seeks to destroy another's garden
Is similar to the ugly weeds and worms that crawl inside the dead.
My eyes are chipped with all the people I have meet,
Each stain inside reflects their thoughts and emotions
While the scratches represent their words.
Once you see throught my eyes,
There is nothing more sad than touching the story by hand.