Believing the lies of those we despise.
in our shuffling horde.
Ravaged and mourning, ignoring the warnings.
In what we can’t find.
The original illness is growing in stillness.
and cut to the quick.
Believing it’s real in hopes they can steal
in how it all seems.
From our very first breath to eventual death.
what life rearranges.
Beneath all the rubble, destruction, and trouble.
to take hold of the ropes.