Glass sculptures shattering all around by cold hatchets , turning it into haze.
In a world so cruel, there is no place for them , wether they are broken or turned into tin.
cold steel robots moving in firm clues , passing by the sculptures , exclaiming you are so smooth.
Escapist they are with no escapism to reach, they don't know where they are, feeling so unreal.
screaming easy on me , don't you scratch , please I will be smashed.
Transparent ,getting darker but also becoming smarter, glass is to shine and glow not to be smeared with glue.
Shattered glass is sharp can cause you harm, like crystals they shine but you don't know what is behind.
They live in their world only breathing your air, if you awaken them, it's your responsibility to be fair.
Glossy, glaring,glazing they are but deep down you will never know what they are .
No comments:
Post a Comment