That’s the lone
soul soldier,
not missed by
social shots
with silencers applied
so no sounds
come alive,
and with sound
you can’t hear the zombiefied are in stride,
spare the
innocent they won’t,
what fits all
is one size,
put you down
in the dumps, a deathstyle enterprise.
There’s a lot
of ways to remove the intended fate, from another coming for you with
these thoughts can
create,
and there
world of vices demonstrate,
but how can
you stand to defend with the voice against the ends to the means
of your
demise,
If you haven’t
seen the recourse against social shots in disguise?
Who is this
messenger in me that gives what I need to understand,
how well-planned,
these pervasive ruthless modes,
molded those, like
the unstable road rips,
altered trip leading
you to a dead-end
awaiting
censorship,
except with no
edits, bleeps,
sweep weeks,
just the defeat.