The Powers That Provide

so fluent in the language that negates incentive but broadens the selection of meanings, all soo many tedious feelings like battlescars that rush to the surface. and this may be the purpose they all told you about, yet i can't stand how bland the words become. treasures stick out of the sand, but your hands only bleed when you place them in. the right behavours spawn the wrong intentions, feels like your inventing reasons to force your smiles. and who is it that's on trial? the last best bet to make would be one that puts your reputation at stake. flavours blend to mix the end in indifference.