scratches

evil is much furious gesturing, and posing
a conductor’s baton, a magic wand, a lonely song
we run in circles to dig a zero in the grass
and who am i? this dreamer exited stage left
i am behind the scenes as long as i don’t breathe
evil is a quiet, waiting snake of an emotion
a fire that dies at its most brightest burn
this criminal saw the light through the scratches
the glass, black, from the brushes of nightmare
do you dream it can be so easy to fly away?
home is that notion you have found some center
evil is a drama that shakes down the audience
a wind that never finds rest, to dissipate
i have found the exact star that calls me
as if i could reach—not so far—to pluck it down
but like a dream, it is seconds beyond my grasp
to awake to the rhythm of the churning city
evil is the world where cruelty is made cash
a spire that falls, how great is the ruin of it
none of us sure of our footing in the darkness
did we imagine we could escape the final light?
a fire to fear, that burns all the sin from us
evil is what we discard of life, a cold, cold no

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