Reliant on oblivion
Delusions ensconced
Feigning recognition
Simply salting the crops
Writhing through your bones
The soul cannot lie
Prosaic echos atone
Dying on borrowed time
Necessitous whispers
Ne'er ripen to shout
Facticity's abandoned
Brute's benefit of doubt
I have such doubts
I have such doubts
Proscribing convalescence
Muddying the plot
Shrouded in opulence
To conceal the stench of the rot
