Untitled

No one ever said they'd pledge their soul to hiding,
or become dehumanized through such survival
Another plea for help sacrificing any dignity
As tattered knees, bleeding bends to worship
Another Potential savior who will bring peace to their dead
Or another passer-byer who will mourn and be moved by their debts.
They're barely thriving off the root of the world
Minimally standing, eating for running,
Surviving for hopes that are lost in the wakings of dreams.
If you listen closely you could hear the stealth of the feet,
And breath the same green,
And taste the same stench of blood on your teeth.