Puritan by The Wretched Excess

Force the hand of chance.

And let her find that stars drown in light,
which paints darkened city streets with gold,
with pathways that glitter, but leave with night
and reveal with sight, that she is a bird
who longs for marigold in the grasp & hold
that is her only birthright

Let she who can
rest easy knowing the pained stirring ends with shiver,
so that the wind may carry them, stripped to bone
to deaden her whisper and finally become stone
and let she who can
breath easy knowing that she'll be alone

para-military wing of the tomo takino brand

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