There goes that pounding
The sheer near tangible pressure
upon my temples
renders me vulnerable
a thousand soldiers crawling
in secrecy
with anticipation like,
church bells in a naked yard
Boom Boom
their boots thud
slowly across the plains
a thick day heavey
with the sound of rain and mud
Boom Boom
their boots thud
my sight becomes hazy
through a misty window
with patterns and designs
Mountain ranges make themselves
out of water
it tickles my lower eyelids
bursting forth
I move
in a thick haze
my limbs struggling in a viscosity
everything
is too slow
too clear
The uprising inside of me
calls for a revolution
against those stubborn
soldiers in my head
I tread carefully
their weapons
in my eyes
Boom Boom
their boots thud
in my chest
the ridiculous gentleness
of an uprising
inside
Screams in silence
for a revolution.
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