Great Poem

To feed the swine,
Some random bat's feces.
Let it age, like fine wine.
Bring you to your knees.
Fevered and blind.
A new disease.
Running out of time,
With no vaccines.

A food source; contaminated.
Can travel the seas.
The people, addicted,
To parasitic seeds.
That hypnotize the mind,
Makes the brain bleed.
The bloodborne smothers;
Hemorrhaging.

Dilate the eyes.
A glossy scene.
To contemplate life, hereafter,
And the in between.
A trip to the slaughter,
Once you've been weaned.
You're just swine at the fodder,
Wishing you had wings.