The hounds of heaven howl

To the home of hunger’s call

 

Beds made, layered in dust

Silver flies flitter and feed

Off the dreams of once-before

Distant echoes fading away

 

The hanging mist of solemn chains

A twisted haze of stolen tears

This broken maze leads only to death

Through emerald bay and Tessie’s leers

 

Sunbeams piercing ancient shields

Now sweltering virgin soils

Coal-fired, frack-poisoned fields

With every breath despoils

 

Tumult stifles cognition

As warlords reach superstardom

Pointing to the imminent ruin

With a cat-bitten thumb

 

Eyes tractored to television

Swollen lobes draining of chi

Short of surgical precision

Goes the good we’d imagine to be

 

On a scandalous cinnamon cloud

Harvest havens line the horizon

 

Fingered for foul-play by the dead

My face is numb

But I can’t stop shaking my head

 

In trying to be a good person

I’m too often avoiding being a person

As this world is filled with groups of people

Who purposely live far away from each other

 

How does one find happiness in a system designed to harmonize with discontent?

 

Where many are oblivious to the obvious

Or so indifferent to the malevolent

And the jerry-rigged freedoms

Are lauded as true by a rigged jury

 

Why does blood stain so? And why do cops wear the one color that hides them the best?

 

Coughing up conspiracies

Misled to believe the narrative

 

In trying to stay in my slalom of sanity

Am I just spiraling faster toward sure calamity?

 

So how do we enjoy the play when the hall is on fire?

 

The game is perpetually made fashionable

But the result is always identical

 

No height of fashion can ever fully cloak the outcome of a morality test