R.I.P

What if you lived in a place so desolate father sun would never dare permeate its stale air? What if you lived in a place so dark not even mother moon’s lukewarm light graced its heartless features? That’s where we are now, that’s where we were then. Dark hearts spawn dark thoughts, dark thoughts are the cause of having a cause. This is the circle and rotation of life, we all knew that one day ours would be a place in which wearing a hoodie made you a victim. Ours is a dark and desolate place. Deep down we all knew that one day a new revolution must be brought upon mother earth and its inhabitants, a revolution so impossibly ridiculous and yet a revolution which holds the balance, the homeostasis of our world in its candy-stained hands. Ours is a place of new hope, a place of dreams worth dreaming and a place of salvation for those and only those who try and try again. Ours is a desolate place, yet its not yet a festering place, this revolt must have a feverish pace.

Ours is a place of bad and good, life and death, hear me out because me and my peers are all you got left.





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