I’m sorry, that when you compliment me
When you stare
You’re seeing something that simply isn’t there
I’ve been accused of being cold
I allow it and leave the truth untold
Because what you view in me isn’t how I think of you
And expressing it just isn’t something that I’ll do
It’s funny, how you love me
While I want someone else entirely
And neither of them take any notice, I’m sorry.
Atop manufactured podiums
Of Decadence; Descending
Refracting the ever present
Evils that live in
Everyone into one
Hot point
On Anthills.
On appendages
Proclaimed,
By the conscious mind, diseased,
During the coup from nervous
Tyranny.
Review, then.
Inspect the lens
Check for cracks
Be ready to tilt,
to angle, to lift.
But
The fire they seek comes not from the sun
Distrust in the meek and melted lead for their guns
Show frighten many, inspiring some
Though hasty and cruelly enlightening none.
Though hasty and cruelly enlightening none.