- Books, Literature, and Writing
walking the dirty streets i follow your foot prints even though i am alone. wondering where we are going to end up. blisters drain and socks now full in red mess. pain is an object of feeling that would make most aware but still i continue, searching to find where you are leading me.
rubberized shoes now soulless comfort now dismissed. no red carpet for us to stroll down. just red hot asphalt do we walk upon. burning in obis you stop... where did we end up i am blind to the sight. i am numb to touch and too def to hear. but muted i am not. where do we rest at?
we are in his soul... his soul is nothing, it is a black numb obis full of red hot hatred, hence why he is numb blind and def.