We've come too far.
there is no reason to pretend
for the inevitable end
of desperate need unsatiated
by situations we've created
to fill a void that was invented
by fairy tales that always ended
as fractured fiction unintended
a conjured image of perfection
unholy purge and ressurection
of who we really are.

No Northern star
caught on the road of indecision
now multiplying our division
biding for time with good intention
while praying hard for some invention
some paranormal intersession
to justify this swift recession
this fear of loss, urge of possesion
a contract breached without notation
descending into exploitation
at the corner bar.

so huddled here
within the stench of custom stagnant
with vomit dry now on the pageant
that once was herald to the masses
parroted promise that now passes
for what must once have been impressive
and panders now to the obsessive
a vague and empty imitation
designed to lift us to a station
by sacrifice and degradation
and our eternal fear.