Society

Here I, remembering my hast to rise,

In times of bleak, nighted nescience, I strolled

This sphere with combing sorrow cinder cries,

Amazed, that I had never stricken cold.

With every turning, came I stronger still,

So much more by surpassing the ruinous smash,

And striving diligently, tossed for a thrill,

To forceful, frantic fanning, diseased beast slash.

And through my weeping, sifting broken bone,

Attending wounds from dogs that I had trusted,

A vision seized upon me, whence unknown,

Burning, tearing fire from entrails, fierce lust.

Watching the bankrupt fall of shifting shades,

Heckling their dreary, torn, torment parades.