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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1410399-This-is-Where-the-Sheep-Come-to-Die
Rated: E · Poetry · Reference · #1410399
I fixed it. It is no longer from memory.
Obstenate duration,
On a static obligation,
I am bleeding out my face,
If you can see what I am saying,
It's auspicious if you're sadistic,
Inamorta abduration,
And you know that I can't ever keep real,
When in these situations,
Lamentations, explanations,
With fervent fortitude,
Bringing fellow inedible sheep,
Out of servitude,
It's capricious with spice,
Like life's struggles and strife,
Gilgamesh did something
But, Enkidu died.

You will know me by the air I breath,
With a blood trail following,
Leading to fellow sheep,
It's a vicious fortitude,
With fervent lamentations
Look at who's in servitude,
With zero expectations,
Subjegations, with instigations,
Rearanging, still we'll be a dead man,
After all of these hangings.

It's autistic in bulk,
Capsized but sealed,
Kinda like the space that you think is real,
While you swim through,
With your eyes wide open,
You're choking to death and,
You don't even know it.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1410399-This-is-Where-the-Sheep-Come-to-Die