Infectstacy

Able and lost to–
Sallow days down.
Returning only sorrow
Baked by summer suns.
There turns a daemon.
Etched in bone while
Hot hands contemplate the
Stabbing way of death.
Guided in reality, unknowingly
Dangerous as a house cat
And silent as the floor.
Be a while, change
Suffering way of living
Ebbed and flowed the last
Misguided and misunderstood
A perseverance of failed lines–
Through the sand of time

Marking posts
Beguiled by rhyme
Turn from their duties
To torment mine.

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