Death is among us taking us in its grip and not letting go when we try hard to rip, rip away from its grasp as it slowly tightens the dark our breath as gasp.
Nature takes its course, of course, anything and everything are a cycle of life and death with everything to lose but nothing to gain unless of course its nuclear rain.
Hope for anything never wane unless of course you've gone insane, now here is the kicker for anything that is a fire wicker, like a quick time ticker, ticker taping your way into anything to take yourself away from all this life baker.
It's always a thing of beauty when you see things just take shape as innocents all feel the rape, being taken like a punnet of grape, easy pickings.
It's never a pretty face when you are running from all things like a death race even pet get vicious when you take things away, and food becomes spaghetti lace.
Who's side are you on, when does one see the death con, it's really about the message you send when you think about what you get and envisage.
Torn between showing something brutal so you get to see life as a a picture in total but hesitate for your metal state especially if I am unsure you if can stomach the taste.
Even in life victory you find no escape worth the price unless you find how you are going to get under the tide washing lives for a bitter ride.
Its never a pretty face when you see something so cute become the one thing you had thought was never going to be a brute.
I am going to end this by saying this is not for the faint hearted and will require you be staunch when things are feeling like the end of the world is here. I have a tendency to think about things when I see things with my eyes either rosy coloured or not blurry from a night out enjoying life then suffering from life's enjoyment. A conundrum. @noodlypanda tagging you since this is a poetic prose practice, hope you didn't chuck.
I was listening to this podcast while composing this practice as it came to my feed at the time I was looking for some background noise.
