We bare blood of the same veins.
Born from different wombs
But bleed like brothers
Forged from forgotten ruins.
Our past soars and swells alike.
Forgotten to all but forever bursting.
Our scars scratch unknown sources
To find similar scabs.
Scared to become personal gods
We wander through somber time
To find sickness in victory's
Sweet shallow absurdness.
Though breath feeds 4 lungs
The air is still wearisome.
And cumbersome carelessness
Corrodes our true character.