the storm’s aftermath is often worse than the storm one’s most vulnerable when their defenses are down skies are clear but high waters conceal submerged dangers
give a man a dream
and he’ll strive for perfection
but without a dream
that very same man becomes
just like a beast of burden
mindlessly plowing through life
she’s been crucified
nailed to society’s cross
betrayed by her sons
stripped naked of birth’s freedom
her life taken for their sins
pray that she will rise again
demons get their wings every time there’s a murder could be a bomb or just a mass school shooting doesn’t matter as long as they are innocent young souls
songs should start the day songs that fill the heart with joy don’t begin the day with moans and groans about life for i can assure you that things will without doubt get worse
what color is death
its robe is black but its face
is a chalky white
and as death approaches you
you’re told to walk towards the light
it seems one should avoid white
Read Between the Minds 