The vile youth
of hearts
both know
they will never
steer apart
beat the anchor
of forgiving mothers
of anxiety on decks
of lustering heart ribs
that never unjustified
your living clairvoyance
of how dreadfully
the planet burns
underneath
your bittersweet
daydream of
a sweltering boyband
in lingering shirts
left to knight
their own bad habbits
And save the world
from drowning
in stigmatic benevolence
that never sought
a right winged nightlight
Be the Blackbird
screaming in the
desert
that was a forest
And be known
to have been out there
at least you cried
at least you are
a wonder
in these backstabbing nightmares
of times we are in
Be the left winged soulbird
of the righteous soldiers
of realistically closing in
on harvests unbeatable
to the noble man of York
Be careful in these
lingering times
And Beetroot was always something to eat
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