Monday, March 18, 2013

Signal (moral adjustment)

The simple style of new avenues
The ghost trail that leads to new territories.
I am shaken.
Aloof.
Yet again beneath long wretched highways. The pantomime screams of checkered flags. Wind caught in the appetite of a muddled earthly vestige.
My senses permeated,
my new wheels; Halted
Discouraged by the sight of forked roads 
How to decide right was wrong? 
Was it only until nothing was left?
When it was gone for good. 

There's a long road ahead



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