Connecticut

Skinny hallways lead to old faces
Lying about the dross with three inch flames
To be a lapse in an empty house
Just a theme you never corrected

A rose loaded, teeth pulsating, visionless
Unheeding consequence
Wasted on the rebirth
Chained to foolish hubris
Hands without power and unable to show remorse
Acquainting clarity
Anxiously quivering
In a deep breath
To be torn apart

Why do we refuse to see what's in plain sight?
A struggle of convenient ignorance
When the truth kills our will
Organs have become industrialized instruments built to destroy