Still Circle

There are no decisions to make here, its all just set without a breath of life. Just the defining emptiness of black and white, where the killers of childhood dwell in circles without ever moving. The ground follows each crawling step. Only the crawling of still steps and bugs over naked skin. "change" is impossible "new" doesn't exist.Outside the walls of the circle can be heard everlasting laughter.Healthy human sounds,yet what they wish they had,what mocks them to madness.It never leaves those bug coated ears to rest.These sounds of joy echoed from the outside of colorless walls.In a constant flow they sink inward deeper than the pits of all oceans.Bugs with plump baby faces cling to the sinner's skin hissing out their sins."You stole my innocence" "You raped my of  child's life" "You murdered my freedom" "You ate away that life I had with those rotten teeth" "Now we crawl over you!"And so they did in millions of fluttering black legs.Marching in agony;slave owners,parents,rapists,teachers,abusers,all together.All here for pulling a clean soul into the ugly of the adult world.Those bugs rose out of that moving ground,there was no escape, they stalked like the obcession they had once for their victims.Tears used also by the dead children in hope of sympathy,just calling forth more child-faced crawlers,for that taste of salt their eyes provided.I watched those suffering souls walking in a circle,yet never exceeding a single round.Much like the deep trauma they had inflicted. The sinners themselves did not even know the road they could not move forword in.Their bodies nude were always seen by the sinner  behind them as they were never to move from that position.

Author's Note