In the Arms of Bliss 

It’s strange how we break down mountains from the bottom of a valley.

I guess you can say misery loves company.

I guess it feels good when landslides sink to our level.

Oh, how I’ve misjudged the tender feeling of ignorance.

How wonderful it feels to be in the arms of bliss.

We all do it.

We all hug it back.

We all let sweet nothings whisper in our ears.

Telling us to stand amongst the burning trees and set fires,

or to throw stones in glass houses and watch the walls shatter.

At the very least, redundant.

At most, repulsive-

to let silver tongues lick our necks, and whisper to us, like we never had a choice at all.

But we did.

We chose to dwell in valleys,

and to bring mountains down with us.

How I hate what we’ve become.

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