An Observation made within Sam Spratt's "IX. The Monument Game" - tastes of mud and swine in the bloodied mouth of a youth heavy fist of the violent blind alone to face with you
remedies to old scars angel dust or prescribed talismans just don't go so far as to reach heaven
even excess couldn't get you to take out the splinters a soul can never forget and yours was already a sinner
still the son of men shouldn't be buried by its predecessor you found peace, my friend too far for me to answer
