Our Ego
was high, our Armor was low. The Sidewalk
was broken, the Gutter so low.
The Fetid air was heavy; the sky was Ugly with Static. My Heart was filled with Envy, it
was very problematic.
Murder was in
the Hands of Vicarious Wrath. This Demon would never Falter
to gnash, gnash our Legion with his teeth. Never was there any Sympathy. Instead, he filled our Hearts with Misery.
Again and
again, we were hit with Agony, we tried to Salvage what we could,
but our reward was Terminal.
Ferment was Poison. Disease was Catastrophic. Shrill torment tore us down. We didn’t stand a Chance.
Lament poured
from our Marrow as we were filled with Regret from the Isolation
of our loved ones.
I once
knew an innocent Child. She was
bright and Frivolous all the Time. She no longer lives. Her Blood was spilt and she was torn
limb from limb. She was left Staggering,
trying to find an Antidote for the Guilt she felt.
How long
would we Languish before our Blood ran Thin? How long would we last until Death
reigned in?
Where was
our Mercy from heaven? How many
times had we died on 9/11?