Walking Corpses

We have dug our grave and hidden the spade
If we allow what ‘they’ say get to us.
When the thin line between us and death
Is now a cord to strangle us before death,
We’re in grave danger, tho’ we are far from the grave.

We have prepared us by us, tables of elegy
Before energy lack synergy,
When their words become the art of our expression.
If our foundations be destroyed,
What can our make-up artist do?

To hell with them and their opinion!
They may show you the way,
Never let them push you their way.
They’re not bishops of your life,
Nor lords of your land.

We are dead, if we see through another’s sight.
Dead cat’s don’t meow, dead dogs don’t bark;
Dead lions don’t roar, dead eagles don’t soar.

Flourish Joshua
IG • @fjspeaks
[email protected]

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