Hexagonal yet
fashioned into a pattern;
process of dying.

Sleepless before day.
"Sunlight"; a curse for vampires,
not wretched function.

-Not impurity,
the presumptuousness of
those who point at us

and call us sinners.
They pray and sacrifice their
children [pentagon].

-We preach free speech, but
stab the tongues of fascism
deliberately.

Gaslighted by a
genocidal culture, we
fight back [pentagram].
~
Carving sigils in
frantic vanity eating
death incarnate, whole.

Hell is paradise,
and here we relish the filth
built up in corners,

where history fears
to show it's face and be struck
back into darkness.

Back into process,
simple pattern of dying.
Machines that grind flesh.

War machines by name;
"Liberty", "Freedom", "Safety".
Sleep can be wicked.

Where it interprets
the death of the innocent
as "necessity",

or claims tradition
is inherently wisdom;
"That's just how it is".
~
Sleeplessly in night,
I tap my finger against
a cold damp window.

Mass paranoia
for doomsday ticking downward,
not to zero though.

We wait for midnight.
Perpetuation of fear
is hexagonal.