CAMELOT FANTASIES

Morbid is the dwelling of the dead
Or that of death
When words come clamoring in wild paragraphs
One word follows another
Promises broken
Well before it’s uttered
Muttered not spoken
Mumbling elevates the confusion
Further proclaim the illusion
When adversaries meet
Egos need to parlay strength
Forcing endings
Where things are left unspoken
Where arguments continue until the last day on earth
When all falls dead
The new rebirth

~Divine