we stand, gazing up to the sky
see it cracked like a spider web
dust and grime  have dirtied our hands
saturated in the culture of lies
growing like fungus,
chaotic in their network
sweat drips down, reflection distorted
teeth grind down to brittle pebbles
holes and cavity
a rot that afflict both humanity and this world
we can't shake off our sin, it's there
forever will it be there, a little lead lake
building mountains as you exhale each breath
tiny bones will grow into one of hollow
with empty eyes and wobbly knees
scrapped thigh and ****** fist
but we still grow, a bean sprout
on mounds of rotting corpses
even as our breathe hackles
torn up legs will march the
march of rightiousness
muddy puddle doesn't make a good mirror
but we make do