in the un-mechanical nature of
nature's fist crashing into
mankind's attempt to stand firm against
everything we can't control
there are vigils, and there are tears,
tears in the veil that is the idea
that we are rulers of this world,
that thin, ethereal fabric of existence
that we put over our eyes to give us comfort
makes us blind to the hurricaine.
pride tells us we can let
our faces weather the acid rain,
leaving us scarred in lieu of granduer
that is no delusion.

our mother smites for insolence.
we are students never meant to be teachers.
our baby steps
and teenage mind
are going to
get us
killed.

and father time will forget us
after we are washed into the sea
that we tried to claim as our own.