Kerosene II

The day is lost

on the trick

that we believe in hero's

This hand grenade will fly

but nothing makes it worse than the silly little shrapnel we let pierce

our prayer with total absolution

You are the followers

I am the Flavor-aid

Buzzing blues

Steal the day

Contagious fear

is burning down the school house

Protagonist wail

Humming true

Without a cause

Throwing rocks at the death star

Wanderlust stall

Tracers descend

On the crowd

As the plea for the metaphor's to end