Our appetites to consume are endless

And though it is shelter we seek

There is no escape from the marketing fury

Words are useless, limp, sterile

There are no buried secrets left to unearth

Love has destroyed itself

In an unnoticed, marginal suicide

Our hearts yearn only for more banknotes

Like wilting leaves on a severed limb

Our roots exposed and teeming with invisible parasites

We slave because our survival mandates it

And we are too weary to question

And too confused to recognize the answers

We seek spirituality in a talking box

Laughing at the faces in the mirror reflected back at us

We simmer with a hate we barely understand

And wonder what life could have been

We wish to preserve our youth in a bottle

Cowering before the inevitability of mortality...

But these thoughts, like all, fade like smoke,

Leaving behind only ashes and scars.

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