Fault LinesĀ 

Standard

Sudden unbelievable stress,

Has proven too much,

For two-halves,

Of a whole.

“I-I thought I had it,”

The subsided end stammered,

Visibly panicking.

“Look at this mess you’ve made,”

Said the hanging wall,

Haranguing,

His peer.

There was much tension,

So aftershocks,

Seemed likely.

“That’s easy for you to say,”

Said the footwall,

“You’re in no position to judge,”

Feeling their grip,

Slightly budge.

“This is aggravating,”

Said the risen end,

“This is strenuous,”

Their continued harmony,

Seemed tenuous.

They continued,

To point fingers,

As one side fled,

To bury it’s head,

And the other,

Bottled it up,

For a future,

Outburst.