Gossip
Careless whispers in the dark.
Mercilessly hunting, stalking, striking the pathetic mark.
The tongues of flames burn my flesh to a crisp.
The wind blows ferociously against the field of corn.
Licking seductively from ear to ear.
Children of the corn.
Makes no sense to run, u have already been outdone
How long will ur heels dump fuel of fear on the flame that roars.
The more u run, the higher and faster it soars.
Stand up and fight, which is right.
Weakness in the dark staggers slowly to the light.
Strength that is conceived in the mind
Gives birth to courage perserverance and yes unmistakeable might.
The affairs of the tongue will always exist
But why fear it, control it, master it, indeed with an iron fist
