Freedom: Visualized

Beneath the deadbeat sun

Were scribed the words of immortality:

A down-trodden path of forgiveness decimated by frailty.

The decimation a horror;

Lapses in time coincide with mercurial human judgment.

The light passes through

us.

That light drew

us.

The vastness of nothingness alludes us all —

Targeting us in a meteoric shower of incendiary guilt is our human spirit.

The blood in our veins was a creation of the stars,

Our friends of the night.

We follow chopped white lines to a destination that doesn’t exist:

imaginary.

But that’s okay. That’s right.

Knowing too much is holding a gun in an ammo shop.

The thrill will always exist,

if we let it.

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