...
so he asked me
to dream a dream,
and so i said
that I would
only ever dream,
of drifting
into a life where
poetic allure lives on the heart,
and in the eyes
of all people,
and written words
are only etched
on the carcasses
of those who sell
their soul,
and the souls of
others,
for their own profit.
then, scars would at least
hold the
weight of their worth,
and words
could lie upon the
backs of
the beasts
they were created for.
....
...