I no longer trust the words of the winds on the battlegrounds of our sins.


Anticipate the backlash to the self serving prophecy that enabled you to shut down the epicentre that once craved all your emotional overtures, you’ve ridden the waves of freedom to the edge and failed to notice this was never the ocean you dreamed of, 

I fought all of our battles tired and alone in the senseless hope you would one day hear my battle cry, the battlefield is now nothing more then this eloquent ghost of silence, part of me feels like I was nothing more then guns for hire, and I’m no longer paid to deal with this misery,

It wasn’t that I didn’t hear the faintest cries carried across the lands of time by the winds in the hope that I still carried a spark, which to fuel the fires that we once so masterfully burned, it’s that I realised that I no longer had faith in the wisdom of the words that had forgotten to carry meaning, 

I’m awaiting the day I’m seduced by someone else’s mystery as the anti-venom created by your toxicity has giving me the cure to the ailments that so woefully hindered me, So let’s take note of the day that this ghost of a chance has finally been laid to rest. 

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