resistance

The futility of will, but a whim? to who laments this turmoil 
for however long it takes for you to turn back into the soil. 
As these destructive tendencies turned into lonely waves  
with the idea things will change, like a chain linking futility.

As well as futility that's already coming through your veins
it leaves just to  take it in again and again, until it fully sinks
in, the red waters shallow, until it comes to me as content
can you imagine the  strength it took not to fully allow it 
 
if I could see a small contrast I could gladly taste the bullets
I could  face the reverberating void that chases the distance 
If I could pick up these pieces without it overtaking me fully 
I would show my resistance even if the cases end up surrounding me

falling at my feet like little petals, found as precious metals 
I hope I find that persistence rallies, revels then unravels 
for however long it is I have showed my resistance, up
I see the way that hollows travel then unravel like roses,

even if you didn't want to try  intercepting them layer by layer 
you don't need to begin to see the atoms holding us together 
its instinctive as I peddled these  lonely wares into the distance  
one thought persisted what if we didn't try to show resistance 

would we naturally wear our own resistances down?
waver then diminish returning then back to the ground