Radiant lamps contrast the dullness of my person, past ghosts and know it all souls try to lure me through the promise of a better tomorrow and silently sob as another youngster succumbs to their sorrow. the wind moans and shrieks, the force of their groans attempt to deafen the peripheral voices egging my attempts on as the reaper passes by, he knows this routine already, kids seeing failure as an entrance to his cove and pity them as they find comfort in his hold. The highway bustles with life juxtaposing the dead that still crawls on the asphalt searching for nothing in everything. They see ancestors hear their descendants cry and pray to their mosais ( moe sy) that wherever they go they soar higher than the sky, high enough to find their idea of peace. hands join together, welcoming a new angel who lost their wings trying to find the faux halos on their screens. Together we fall, we will always fall. Together we’ll find peace. Together we walk the busy streets under the neon lamps that juxtapose our dead beats and soulless eyes. Together we watch the new soul who gave up their underdeveloped wings in exchange for whatever they thought death would bring.
Together the cycle continues and we rejoice in the addition and mourn the forgotten.

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