"orange moon over the red river”

Towards the elected, the states are heard

Exclusive screams from inside, fabricated off the ideals we once thought had a chance to survive, so we may acknowledge and learn

When the vices give up innocence, does momentum start to build up, or is it dedicated to the pieces that they keep still and observe?

I haven’t slept in a while, but…you shouldn’t be concerned

Nightmares reside in my temple, as I begin to find new meaning of being the name I hide behind

That’s all one can ever do

Haunted by the premonitions to obey your own mind to figure out if the words on the piece of paper they create are true

Love doesn’t just fall from the sky

The air we breathe that resonates our tribes, and fulfill us with the leisure to anoint ourselves

Those things are never implied

When do they think we’ve had enough?

Internally subjecting to the cause we continue to objectify