That place of fright that fear is a might. We live in the blight of all our own maze. Blaze our minds and raise our hills.
Glass and steel given out hatred mills to a place given all still.
Lights flicker and dance to our endless trance.
It’s a glance from a uncommon fellow to sell all out bellows.
Flowers in hell. Bloom just as well.
I see that they are actually a thing that we do sing. In the mind there are horrors of fright and such a sights. Internal demons just as big as external demands.
When will we realize that nature doesn’t care?
Flowers in hell, bloom just as well.