So long as there’s society there’s much to haunt and hate. So long as the world has its cages and everything has proper place the future is no option until the streets are dressed in flames with torn pavement roaring as loud as the voices dancing
where nothing’s left empty–their bodies, the buildings– all glowing, negating the inert night. And when the walls turn to ashes, they’ll dance in a flurry to kiss the ground as if smudging their past lives off surviving maps.