This month, the cruelest of mistresses

Wears me down with this burden of nothing

I've probed this wall of glass

Looking for the shatterpoint

But alas, it appears that it is not what I'm looking for

In a forgetful wasteland, this driven snow

Trained for the survival of the fittest

Born and raised for good

Glittering chrome and dull silver

Intertwined pipelines of oil and gasoline

A sanguine Red, delightfully reminiscent

By the soul of a Road Warrior

Bound to nothing and heeding everything

There may be deceivers, with fancies high

Some will fall. Surely you, but never I.

And in the violent hour to the violet sound

The beats of mankind, the drums of war

The passion, the patience, the animal inside

Go faster and faster through this desert of sound

The raging whisper, the call of the blind

Riders of the apocalypse, with a following storm

Fatal enigmas, an endless rebound

What follows, is silence

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...........................................The end of lies with laughter

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.......................The end of

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knights

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............................who died.

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Isn't this where...