Vile

As I Observed And Felt Out That Terrain, I Felt It's Imprints Upon My Brain.

It's Occupants:
Empty,
 Desolate,
Vein,
 Insane,
 Crying Out In Pain From Incessant Mental Drain.
Draining What Little Life May Remain.

  Most Of Them Seem To Think Life's An Ego Game.

While I pray For The Rain To Wash It All Away From My Beauty .

The Egotists Play The Deadly Game Of Self Consumption,

 Abolishing Any Remnants Of Constructive Relationships Along The Way.

Their Ego's Must Be Tamed To Ensure The Integrity Of My Beauty Not Pine Away ,

As The Pine Cone, Dry And Frayed,
Cries Out To Me,
  Afraid

As I Appreciate It's Symmetrical Proportionate Beauty.

Dry
Parched
Broken
Torn
Tethered...

The Fanatical Fundamentally Religious, And Drug Addled, Paint The Town A putrid Brown
 
The Children Fight the Frown.

Empty
Desolate
Vein
Insane

Crying Out In Pain From Mental Drain.

Draining What Little Life May Remain From The Children And The Mundane.

  
I Look On In Disgust And Shame....              Intolerance insurmountable

THE DAY I BECAME..

THE ARK...

AND THE RAIN