We reach we fall, we reach we fall,
When all is said then all will all,
But all will never be said at all-
Not even close from spring to fall;

Fall from here, this place I raced to,
And looked back and wished for nature,
Simpler times and simpler natures -
I race through now and so unmake them;

Because I need to make the greatest!
Tallest, boldest, noblest, all-est
So I can boast and toast or roast it
Consume it now. And now. And now!

We reach we fall,
We reach
We
Fall

Hmm, what’s that smell?
I’ll follow it through the house.
It lingers wherever I go,
Perhaps it’s me.

I recognise that smell…
The sickly stench of failure.

What’s that sound?
I’ll follow it through the house.
It rings in my ears wherever I go,
A tinny, shrieking laugh.

Of course,
It is the sound of cynical laughter.
Mockery.
Every second of it impaling me.

What’s that darkness
At the edge of my vision?
It is creeping further in.

Of course,
It’s the blinding death of guilt.
It is the poison that seeps throughout
My every cell.

I cannot see,
I am choked, unable to breathe,
The sound, it deafens, it deafens.

The floor is colliding with my knees,
And my vision is running away.
My ears are being crushed into my head
By my hands,
In a desperate attempt to shield them.

But the thundering howling overdrive
That my senses are in…
It is melting me from the inside.

My body caresses the floor,
Slipping…
My hand curls away from my head,
Falling.
My vision keels over.
Darkness.

And my nose breathes in the last breath of failure,
As it rattles into my broken lungs.

Thieves, thieves.
Christ are we petty.

Could not have imagined
such a death
Such a short-sited
venomous slip of the mind
such a death-toll...
so unpredicted-ably sad to see
            A mighty species
Die.

That's the fate of the fate-less, I guess
Our gods were a faceless
Mass
of derangement
Massive enough to take us to space.
What we've plucked from out of our souls
We can never replace

Such as it is, we have no chance
Put to death.
****** and detached.
That's how it ends
--surrounded.

We write out
these sorrows
that aren't really sorrows
and
Pin the tasteless love to our chests

Oratorical ****-hoarding
Trade-card victims
with no actual dignity left.

How embarrassing..
the glory of man-kind
To face a demise,
so mundane.

Forsaken by lies.


Our souls have been neutered and
Turned into tools for
Violently-popular
Prostitution-alized fools

Love for the luscious
the rush of the snarling
Hysterical rousings of
Tumultuous twerps.

This is the way that history ends.

Resting in our dreams.

Means of production for
repetition of an old proposition.
More for more's sake,
each against each other.
All on the take.
A fight to be "self-made."
So, come,join the staid.
Share or care, compassion.
All are in America; unmade.

As I lose my way
in an endless ocean
made of flowing knowledge,
my head feels like an anchor,
towing down my heart
below the waves of facts,
to the depths of information
as I drown I do attract
insatiable predators,
all the while,
above the surface
all is doomed to fall
beneath the rising tide,
slowly crawling up
to eat the howling sky

Moisture permeates the air, a wet haze.
Stillness with anticipation, or tension.
Fresh air containing an aroma.
Natural and earthly,
Like giving into original temptation.

Through the fog she awaits my consumption.
Her taste lovely, like if love had a flavor.
An oozing box of sweet glaze, stands within a wet haze.