Testo Carrier Pigeons

Many came to watch the burn of the morning blaze but…

The shooting stars that lead them there, were just flares thrown from last option guns
Painting Morris code upon the red ash sky
They watched the horizon fall between the back seats of the broken cars
The plastic made transportation now labeled

“Some assembly required”
They fought the dry vein desserts
Where skin cracked like dollar bills
They blinked with expired lashes
Last chance, swing it
A force not to be reckon with
It’s time to gather pulses
Even the best may not make it
make it out alive…

Flat lines call hearts’ failures

Swimming like left wing target birds
In a pool of last chances
Where the water sinks the floaters
On a night when the tension was as scared as a virgins flower picked
One spark could start a blaze
One crooked flame could cause an inferno
And the masses would be the wood for warmth

This day, took them all
They followed each other
To the end of the earth
And never said a word
As they all fell to it
Like a child to a strangers candy

This was the end of the world’s instruction manual
They all bought the text; and followed the directions to complete the task
This black day creation, was well crafted in mass destruction