Nikolas Lotze
and Pharoah Bolding

Pharoah Bolding
Inspiration piece


Writing on Black Lines
Nikolas Lotze


Solace by solitude except
death isn’t an expression,
filthily askew and almost seen new
under yellow lit street lamps fueled by
trading on your balance of desperation
for acts of Samaritan,
those that of good men,
whilst hooks sink deep,
wrenching thoughts violent within.

You have therefore you are,
but we lacked that motivation to stay alive;
our thoughts exhaling synonymously with
our last breath taken,
paths we used to stroll now chalk line stained,
where we used to talk
of death or how friendship
can be a root for deceit.

The last of our days fleeting
and much to our surprise,
we’re witnesses to our demise,
arriving half past late,
watching our ends extolled in foreign fate.

Standing still behind those lines,
vicariously dying or
living through our expiration date;
in warm seats with privacy allotted as,
our still hearts leap then wretch
from beneath our rotting vanity made to pay,
everything juxtaposed as a crying scene,
placed against inked black lines of non-stop violence.

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