In these winter months
I find my eyes
Flitting often upward
to the ever shifting skies
A silver specter drew me in
And now I know
its all true

Sometimes seeing
is not believing
It is knowledge
plain and simple
but still questions
demand answers
Will this body live to hear them?

Under thick, coarse shadows
Solutions lie bound and gagged
The gods of this world
Supple and pale
Glutted on trampled words
Pestilence trickles down
Their statue-esque jowls
And rains down from the tower
Into eyeless sockets of fetal remains
Lean puppet carcasses
Somnambulant dances in acid pools with fecal shores
Thatch roofs burning
Under a hail of distraction
And the fat of the land
Convenes and congeals
In a consolidated mass

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