darkness so intense
it makes hallucinations
daylight-coherent
bulbous thegnmobile marred by
sheer reality skidmarks
ghazal of the long dying
nothing can be made of this except dying
i wanted to write about three narcissists
but my ears were filled with the sound of thousands dying
why do we build these hellish pyramids
when all they do is turn our worship to dying
no god or democratic vote can rid
the people of these parasites, save dying
Graywyvern's poem says: better you lift a hand
against the nearest tyrant, or fail dying
the bigness of their littleness fills the sky
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