Walking city streets consumed by violence.
Sick of how people are filled with bile and,
Talking shit just cause they can.
Siphoning standards until nothing will stand.
Where are these justifications written in sand?
Nowhere, its all what has been imagined.
Prosperity has been killed.
Breathing poison into our lungs.
Let us burn into dust again!
Watching old friends turned into foes.
Handed dread with nothing but bows.
Joke is on me for trying to live in these lands.
Crushed beneath false hopes sold for a song.
Greed is the only currency which continues to thrive.
Into this pit we will be forced to dive.
Prosperity has been killed.
Breathing poison into our lungs.
Let us burn into dust again!
Linger.
Machinations hunting innocents.
Nose formed from candy that used to bring joy.
Weaving complexity until I am ill.
Voracious and haunted.
Always being ghosted.
Venom in our brains.
Worming deeper in.
To be ruptured where we stand.
Lost beneath a lack of sound.
Prosperity has been killed.
Breathing poison into our lungs.
Let us burn into dust again!
Simon A Jackson - Writer 