Struggles of Outsiders

Davinci integrated the foil between a trap and a rabbi,

As the walls close into italics the curl of blood grimes,

Foreign to this adversary are the circles of infiniti,

Largely the account of those in misery,

Houses vacant in the mirror of quest,

Circuit of cities pulsing wet,

Digital conversations in the meadow of the art,

Picnicking the basket as a scene from the yard,

Enveloped menaces cherish the group,

But packing our struggle is the funk of the loot,

Cheering our greed we pine defeat,

Practical windows of nestled treats,

Including spectators outside the walls,

Until next time we begin our fall.