Stepstools
Knocked over in rage
Leave uncertain futures
Dangling from the rafters

Ever-morphing
They shoot satellites from the sky
We've left words unspoken
But our heresy is just hearsay

Birth and death
All in the same womb
Air escaping
Yet breathing deeper than before

Tomorrow's fool
Is fast asleep on the moon
While surly and censored mouths
Sense the hunt of the vultures