Radiation Will Be The Judge To Which You Will Testify

A Gun Shot to the Head

Such is the fate of innocence and idolatry
When confronted with the amalgam of half-truths,
that float to you in the night,
glowing like fireflies, trapped inside glass tubes,
blinding you to what lies behind the glass,
Why don’t your eyes perceive,
instead of allowing punditry to paint your picture for you
what is wrong with your logic
has it failed?
has the engine inside the ministry of truth broken down?
do you choose to tie your shoes in the morning?
does your skin bruise, while you watch death, dead, and the mourning?
do you yield at railroad crossings,
sun-flavored warning lights, the only remaining signal,
attempting to warn you, that your fate is to become a carbon- buttermilk pancake with type-o  platelette syrup
Who ruined your membranes, and sabotaged your neurons,
so that they may fail in times of need,
why do the  soul-diseased dine in greed, 
plates of dead skin, making yours pallor with pain
please open your heart, rip the stitches fighting your eyelids out from beneath subcuteanous layers,
but be careful,
nothing is more volatile, than a loaded gun, hollow tip in the chamber,
or knowing your life is a constructed farce,
lamenting, led astray into the burning fields and fences
  
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