Luyện nghe bài hát Lotus Gait

I have this nightmare:
flailing pigeon, her broken
frozen solid to the pavement.
I turn as if I do not see.

I have this memory
of my old man from the drivers seat
to turn away from an horror,
but he not undo what I had seen.

We spoke of it again.
Two more citizens of
the new post-traumatic worldwide disorder.

A syndrome fifth estate,
desperate to batten the mounting horrors
and on in a global lotus gait.

Content to
in the plasma of the
home prisons we
before like dime-store shrines.
Are these but lives?

A strangled, twisted
that shores-up of us.
Anything to the pain
of a lotus gait.

As for me a of psychic police tape
tends to cordon-off the scenes.
But the wandering mind through it
and them all eventually.
Pries wide your eyes
and shines a painful
on the guilt, the fear, the shame.

The never came
from the glow of the
home prisons we
cling to like shrines.
Are these but lives?

at heart.
A from the start.
A stockholm syndrome estate.
A lotus gait.

Its a strangled, twisted
that shores-up of us.
So anything to dull the
of a self-inflicted, crippling gait.