Consistently you speak in a poison tongue. You let the world let you down many years before. Day to day I see you wary from chains tied to your feat. I am free, you cannot trap me. You’re waiting for the perfect moment. It passed a million times. Waiting for the roses to be red again. A shame all the flowers were frozen to death. They’ll never sing songs about you, no memory. Burning flags on your grave, there will be no fucking funeral only a celebration. Your pyre will be a reclamation. Too familiar to run from, breathing in I remember all those years we spent waiting for things to change.No memory. Not even worth an afterthought. Chained to an unhealthy lot, iron rusts and you fucking rot. No life, no chance for a revolution, but it's fucking coming. Oh I can feel it, I can feel it in my bones, there will be no peaceful revolution.
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