Thursday, March 17, 2011


For all the shit that I gave pleasantville,
It seems like a dream.

I'm scared
to leave what has become my home
my loved ones
my friends
my coworkers
my countrymen.

I'm scared of fleeing
when I know that
these mountains
cry out in pain.
But what can I do to stop the shrieking?
It would be to abandon chaos for chaos.
I am too in love with this place.

What kind of world is this?
We must mistrust all
lest we become slaves.
Fear mounts upon fear
and we are toothless bunnies, shivering against the winds
of man's folly.

The seeds of destruction
long sown
are beginning to blossom.
Who is the farmer tilling my mother?

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