Taking the fate of life on old excursion destinations; to when the back burner went out, rotted, and everything became too overly clear.

Resting bitten and bitter under memories of my old long shadows cutting into the darkness; this world, this malleable piece with misfortune intact from before the cradle to after the grave.

Has lost the advantage of appearance and is forced into wisdom... Is like a rotten fence with incurable complexes about giving justice... Give goodwill to the incurably arrogant and worm-eaten... Stupidity costs and costs...

Hear a storm-broken tree speak with a sense of doom;

My tormented branches
already cut by suffering
whip me on in the years that never heal.


Love.