You intentful eyes,

      Rape the skin off my bones, Death isn't good an ending for your fate, Masculinity wrote a dark letter from the century of lost equality, Did you remember to read it... In the disguise you wear to appear past adolescence; Your kind is the apocalypse. 

      Your wits reek of evil born from the core's MAN'S invention that mask their desire's vigilantism, There are countless letters, movies, books, men that prescribe to the livelihood of this lie... They are us & we are that which defines humanity on the edge of one last day's parade, Before we discover the edge of our burden & find it's far... Far, far too late.

        There is nothing to resurrect another moment nor save us from the tribulation of our wits naked end, We spent too long as vampires, Eyes envisioning women as prey, Silent bent over school catholic boy pawns; as if women were held beyond a'door's reach, Bay of hibernating reflections kept dormant until today, The awakening is a choice we all must live... So is our advancement beyond 'no,' if we walk this line... We can hold our breath until death, Unworthy of trial, prosecution, jail or saving... It's beyond too fate masculinity on over spiteful of everything drive late! We run this parade & we like it doomed.