Violent winds are cover in the night
of horrors black and brewing
to extinguish what is bright.
Post Breakdown:
No equation to console
their fragile little minds.
Forge a child's memory
We remember to forget.
The teeth in their heads
are swallowing instead.
Nothing fits the symptoms.
Just promises of led.
Soon to be missed
the safety of their beds.
No class as the halls,
like them,
taste the red.
Stomach's groaning
with a mortal grudge.
Hell released by the slightest touch.
A flash escapes
but the rest we flush.
Yet it’s still too soon
to say too much.
And when the bell rings…
A glance across the chaos
only moments from the lost.
A desperate attempt to
disarm the fire from its host.
And when the bell rings
Forge another fucking memory.
A final thought to dismantle
what he fears the most.
A hopeful breath answered
by its greatest cost.
Who spilt the numbers?
Just math on the floor.
Is anybody counting?
Just Cardinals on the floor.
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