Final Breath of Hate’s Decline

Featured art by Android Jones

Listen to Final Breath of Hate’s Decline by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Love Like A Robot by Aga Wilk (Fotoplastikon Remix)

Reflected in the tides of time
Are yesterdays we hide behind
Bid incline to trail away
Waste away to steep decline
Waking life denies plain sailing
All the while the light is fading
Making light of last crusade
Remaining blind to inside trading

Judgement calls are tools for fools to fall for false illusion
The cause affects effects of devils revelled in collusion
Where’s the sense in arming swords and marching forth relentlessly
When feelings tend to be misspent so senselessly
General consensus states that do or die would sooner die than do a single thing to tickle pink untutored eyes that blink
Each time rumours presume the tune of lies
Truth then outmanoeuvred by the tumours of the blind

Erected in the sands of time
Are castles in the sky
Standing upright, thus denying waking life will pass us by
Given ample time to climb when unresigned to fate
Algorithms can collide when rebaptized of faith
Tidal waves are idle days away from right of way
When spinal veins are drained of vital fluids in polite disdain
Homicidal rage is all the rage for those with jaded psyches
Meanwhile, at the rifle range
The snipers plan reprisal raids and tell delightful tales of more enlightened days to come
One more hit
Their race is run
Knuckles bare on naked guns
Soon to be renumerated
Rumoured only basic sums
Suddenly, terrain becomes less stable than before
Points to prove yet not one clue what they seek compensation for

Reflected in the tides of time
Are yesterdays we hide behind
Bid incline to trail away
Waste away to steep decline
Waking life denies plain sailing
All the while the light is fading
Making light of last crusade
Remaining blind to inside trading

Protected are the hands of time
With enterprise in gay decline
Creative minds remain disguised
When perched behind sedated eyes
Unused observation hives are devastated
Flayed alive
In no fit state to play for time
Wasted in abrasive eyes
Are destinies they left behind
Unaware of best design
With nothing left to testify
Than dispossess to stay alive
Bested in the game of life
The death of free expression
When final breath of hate’s decline
Leaves more adored impression

Reflected in the tides of time
Are yesterdays we leave behind
Disinclined to trail away
No way ordained to steep decline
Waking life rewards plain sailing
All the while our courses change
To wave goodbye to past crusades
Remain the night and pass our days
Bereft the final breath of hate’s decline
To breathe entitled next with grace and shine

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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