Rejection
Trying quiet the torrid pain of rejection is like throwing gasoline on fire
The liquid
Had you but perceived the tang of its essence
Would not have exploded into a monstrous bon of fiery spirits
For the ancestors of repudiation have gathered at the altar of fear
Where the dirge to hope is quietly sung in mono-tone chant
The waters of enlightenment only gathered by time
Then the burning ghosts can be silenced
Rebel Waste is an artist. His medium: LANGUAGE. His weapon is a combination of t’s amd v’s arranged to a point like a sword with the Righteous Psychosis of a torn down psych ward.
Copyright © 2014 by Rebel Waste
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