Kill Your Oblivion

We’re yelling peace is boring.
Fluidity is key.
Stagnation is ignoring
The possibilities.

A brotherhood of spectres.
A raging fist of screams.
Our hearts gilded with nectar.
The mouthpiece of your dreams.

Toxic desperados.
Bayonets in their claws.
A call to arms, a credos.
A manifest of sores.

A dissenting howl from hollows
Until now deprived of voice.
The breed of hound that swallows
Filth to exercise a choice.

Where prison is a circus;
Where shame is but a mask.
Where modesty’s a party piece.
We never have to ask.

And permeating all is love
In every and no hue.
We’re taking crossbows to the dove
That made peace a class-ist coup.

When death is pure spectacle;
The moment we alight.
Where humour gives perspective
And hones our higher sight.

An army of the dispossessed
That actually don’t care.
We carved us free of lazy breasts
And laid our spirits bare.

Conviction under scrutiny
Will never yield flaws.
A passion-fired mutiny
Etched deep by teeth and claws.

Immobilise the misery
That pours from butchered souls.
Eliminate the histories
That compromise our goals.

Autonomy our only rest;
Our Eden from the churn.
The self, a thing to be caressed.
Complacency will burn.

In subways fester broken souls;
The suburbs, stillborn sour.
Wake up kids, life’s not parole.
Manifest your hour.

Kill your oblivion.
Shock yourself true.