A house of cards since torn apart
And spirits broke before restarting.
A crow, whose ****** circles fast
Smells decay now from afar.

The marrow picked, and bleed, once tasted,
Fills the guts of those who've stuffed.
And fumbled in a greasy til
And still want more.
Insatiable. Craven.

Now rats who race to break the bones
Do hurry and scurry to survey these heaps,
All corners kept
quietly
questioning Questioning,
Festering, Venturing
these treacherous tendencies.

What once caused irk
now drives berserk
in shadows lurk acquiescent clerks.
Whose duteous work,
Cloyed wolves 'mongst herds,
venerate without exertion.

Can't *** the plants to break enchantment.
Now rubble strews the once green pastures,
Serpentine, exiled from gardens,
This concrete tomb, once womb of Gaea.

How barren plains once bloomed; need rain.
Her balding dusty broken frame
Now chokes with hate for beast with brain
Who slash deep wounds in soft terrain
Contempt, with only glutenous gain.
They reign.