Forth onto Froth = Stay low, soft knees. For pain, you’ll see. Chin up, young one. For death, there’s none.
Fractured = I rinse my hands off this bloodied soap. In hopes, that it’ll rid me of our sinking boat. No more ropes, to a once promised oath.
Inheritance = No. It has never been for us to row. No. It isn’t ours to take the blow. No. It’s only right to voice what we know. No.
Once= There was once a life; when who’s who wasn’t much ado; when what’s right couldn’t be a lie; when how and why held more than where and when. It was life.
Hate, we ate, in silence, became tyrants.
Spawn = It glows, the moon, with the light of another. It shows, the room, all its fake laughter. Who knows, what looms, in the hearts of our sons and daughters. Whose shadows, they bloom, into unspeakable horrors.
A dagger = Sorrow, we burrowed, a joy lent, depression’s hidden hand.