When the windy day meets a dizzy end,
The lights of sunset fade away.
Whispers cross the fields of trees,
Passing secrets at great east,
These veiled words sent off with care,
Lost once more freely in the air.
The night begins and comes confusion
What is spun and what’s intrusion?
What stands true? A mystery clings
Throughout hushed trading of what is known.
With bets placed down on what could be,
Knives are buried deep in backs,
And disdain drips from every word,
Rumours take control.
Secrets become economy of
Which we can’t turn back.
The more you know the more power you possess,
But life costs transparency and no less.
How can we survive
Until dawn breaks with a new day?
Sometimes all you need is a candid photograph to inspire shit like that. Shoutout to the new wig for being inspiring~~