Atrophied in catastrophe

In mixed conscience,
the conscious continue
to toil
in the spoils
of division
Awaking on the road less travelled
to unravel the wisdom
lain in the footsteps of our rivals
Dust billows from oft trudges
through the mire
of doubt and perplexity
pacing the ego with a grief that lingers
of a lost world
The sweltering wick of our fire
   smouldering
as we stand idly by as the hierarchy flourishes
The propaganda machine
stoking our fear
as we choke on their lies
   Indifference despised
A fistful of dollars to stiffen their collars
A handful of crass etched right in the glass
The stagnancy of their creeping flesh
Leaving us atrophied in catastrophe