No One could see a bullet when the gunman allowed their lazy lead to slide off it’s sullen muzzle, silenced and sulking, all leftover gunpowder just glared at the person in bewilderment, puffing out yesterday’s residue all the while they drifted off to quiet, calm, and comfortable reality, one where they could sleep away any rough edges that threaten their conscious,
better to drift away in silence,
better to wish that trails could never find us,
at least with the shadows we find ease,
Gently dimming your problems slightly with a soft, winter breeze,
Sleep tight dreamer, because eventually when your body wakes,
Life will attempt to swallow any false truth you’ve faked,
Which truly is a futile and desperate root,
We have fought for too long, too far, and too honest to lose track of our pursuits,
So when you look at your alarm, don’t seek to snooze
Because today You’re a Fighter, whose got something to prove.
The Nameless Collective 