S’more Tales

It’s a new town with new faces. Urban subterfuge in the mist a trail of broken dreams. The man with a face and no name. Set in time of future campfire tales. More homes than trees, roads paved with white lines and lies. A lifeless soul on a mission of no mercy.

A man stops at a bar, a favorite among the locals. With every drink his mission becomes more clear. You can over hear everything, pours another shot. A new friend, with a face and no name. The bartender ask what may I get you? A beer would be fine thank you. Rumor has it the family is not doing to well. Close but not far away. Skelton’s in the closet they say, it’s a shame.

Back streets with yellow light window dressing. A circle around the block, street signs with address. The man with a face with no name. Calls upon no mercy for the endured wickedness. The trauma of everything takes hold, the man has a face no name. Town to town he drifts with thoughts. The scales have been tipped again, judgement weighs in.

Fear

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