5 July 2012

So it is, in name and all,

Disgusting figure, smell of death,

Rankled by your inflation,

Only I am to blame.

Here, we set our dreams free,

We let our nightmares cascade into blissful reverie,

We sleep adorned with artillery,

The army of the word.

My peers of prose and poetry,

Set foot under dimly lit street glow,

Lose yourself in the smell of the city,

Brace yourself for change.

paddydukeRank • Opuss № I