Pretty Sleepers Sinking Into Snowy Old AgeMature

Mister Believer,
the pretty sleeper
every dream
in your head
too busy
into cold
and chasing
my fears
to focus
on anything

you prey
on the solidarity
of the things
that pulse red
that pulse darkness
and scream louder
than anything else
I’ve known
you take it
and you throw it
you break it
you destroy it
like it’s living
because sometimes
it is
as alive
As my lungs are
to some thread
of humanity
and life
and you take them
you take them
and fill them
to the brim
with love
love of all things
love of life
of beauty
of music
mister believer,
I hear you
clear and loud
and I do
want you to stay
and feel
at home
the same way
that I do

The End

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