Born of inequity, we were created in a bed of lies. The child birthed from ill-conceived words, and thrusts of painfully real lies. We slept with our wild ways, to be induced in a trance of purple haze that gave rise to new ideas of a father of life that left our emotions behind.
He told you he loved you!
His desires met your every re choir ment to make you shout out of your name!
Every primitive urge by word was met by a physical touch of ecstasy from skin underneath to the fabric of your heart.
You hung on to the tapestry that graced the sheets of music to the window pane of your souls.
The desires of your mind were met in the late hours of your labor pains! The unwanted thoughts of an inebriated mind were spawned on the whim of wordplay.
Yeah you were promised the world and you felt shortchanged, but when you got up to get changed you only succumbed to the promise of the fruits of no labor.
The miscarriage of your purpose.