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Literature Text
THE DYING EMBERS OF MAN
the ember that which we call man are ever close to death
all fault for this is on no one but are deprived shoulders
we drown in the ashes of once grand fires
we are smoldered and scorched until we are their children
are hate eats us
are fear puppets us
but we continue to dance with the fires that plague us
until we are just cinder
the ember that which we call man are ever close to death
all fault for this is on no one but are deprived shoulders
we drown in the ashes of once grand fires
we are smoldered and scorched until we are their children
are hate eats us
are fear puppets us
but we continue to dance with the fires that plague us
until we are just cinder
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Depressing.