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