…Held Unholy…

…Held Unholy…
By jariah

Hardly holy minds are living the lives again, dancing around with smiles for the masses, I added the theories of daily independence vs. the lives that are spent, hovering near the doors of distant worlds, wishing that these lives were given something other than the pale thoughts of some gifted door of freedom, wishing for racism to end, while I line these deaths upon the walls of freedom and I wish for death most days, most days my mind is recluse an scary and the drugs I take rake the eyes of these torn and fabricated realities, hoping that some form of justice is given, a stop and go, hover more, lick the lines of these pale coins that dine upon the governed minds of many, governed through their own theoretical minds and I missed the torn and bound dream state of these bleeding lines that lick the holy wars of the past, and I’m given like a calf to the fires of day, and down upon the worldly bathed in silences, are the hardly bathed in breaths and I’m allowed the same freedoms of the torn through dreaming minds and there is nothing I could, nothing I could have done, nothing that would have freed me without bathing these dying days, dying with the welpish sanities, given cruelties and I feel the rape of Persephone every day with every breath, and I look towards the heavens nightly with death on my mind, death of these dined upon denials of logic, death for the fabricated realities that hover near the doors of my theoretical palace, mirrored by the thoughts of man, screaming I lay down with lava flowing from my mouth, like a dream to hold the holy hearts again, I line the days with sanity after all you have taken from me, thieved realities and blurry states of mind, I hold nothing that I am as holy.