Dead Soil

Desiring to change your environment simply means,
You understand how it has no affect on you.
It means that you care about yourself enough to be where ever there lies,
Truth…

Sleeping in a bed of lies is like,
Being stuck inside of a web of nightmares you’ll wrestle with for an eternity.
Just,
Another silky string buckling you down within what’s supposed to be an infirmary for the wicked!
Turned into an abyss where all kinds of monsters reside in,
Fervently,
For what’s given as darkness is ensued by,
Death…

Like,
The Death of my hopes and aspirations,
To be more than just a number counted by a system giving out more pills of persuasion,
To a pro fending off demons trying to block off my road to salvation…

But,
A reawakening occurs after planting seeds far away from soil zombified by the nightshade of our most heinous inclinations.
Witnessing how beauty can still sprout and pierce through stone anchoring us in place and,
How our garden of Eden gives us back our chance to indulge on fruits of the spirit we’ve been,
Denied of…
By our choice to stay stuck instead of moving away into a place we can breathe better in,
Silence…