leaving doors barely open
evidence of our misdeeds on the floor
seeing only the insides of our eyes
between dark-as-night alleyways
we spin our lives from vines of lies.
heaven shall burn in the blaze
along with all the rest;
words are just air we manipulate
to the best of our ability. . .
but what can we say
to please the divine entity?
how novel can our thoughts be,
when they're as old as lore,
how can we give it our best,
if we can give no more?
*~nykki*~
*~nykki*~
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