obsidian

 




weeds growing from
the soul

skin turning alabaster
with apathy

people stuck in the mud
of their own thoughts

despondency plays it's
music in the ears
of love

how radiant ignorance

how rapid entropy

what strange bed fellow's
are wed between hope
and desperation

such motivations have
raised a Pharaoh

fell a Czar

or murdered
millions

such sad creatures
we to place our faith
in such limited and
undivine transparencies  

we are none the wiser
or more clever for
the ages

merely ants scurrying
about beneath the
boot of  God

waiting for the
obsidian to
take
us