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Untitled 2.3.04
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All of Me This world, a bubble,
Is slowly deteriorating.
Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly.
Starting inside, not with revolutions,
Not with wars, no, farther inside.
Further within. Each family
A world in itself,
Where words can e nuclear bombs
And tears, silver bullets falling through the air.
The battle waged from jealousy,
Still rages. Blood still falls.
No treaties are ever made.
Instead it's just a game
Where no one ever wins.
And all who play
Fall broken to the board -
- angels without wings.
