Shuffling from one end to the oblivion of nothing

Wrecking the streets of the neighbourhood, the tiring noises churn on and on without a drop. Screaming, shouting, chest thumping and general precursors all to fits and wants of violence. Leaving all sense aside, the sapping of energy rises with the wish of watching hit and runs roll through the streets.

Cracking hurt across the hoodlums takes too long for the cosmic and karmic forces to work their magic. Absolution is for a few and there is no conscience in the streets. Their entertainment is the beating of others.

Soon Van

Wednesday, 15 March 2006 - 10:04

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