An enclave is often built for purpose,
though in this instance what lacks is surplus
for the walls of Jericho merely resurface
this misfortune of disservice.
Anarchical bolts tighten their grip
allowing lack of self-worth and loathing to begin their courtship.
Internal rage rages within,
swirling relentlessly to the point of Boleyn.
Suffocation prevails,
oh for what does this entail?
A hand so gaunt forcibly shows the reflection
as if to taunt in the eyes of what was once flaunt.
Those once loved are now resented
adopting reptilian smiles though repented.
The descent underground is lamented
though produce not presented.
Stumble miserably from the violent mental tyranny
in acceptance of the heresy
that leads to the subsequent spirit free.
Move wearily.
