Miasma

Miasma      6/25/2015

Northwoods,  south woods,

East wood and down

The more you question

The more you will see. 

You can’t judge a book by its cover

Unless that book is me

Another day bobbing up and down

Running down a ditch

And circling the drain. 

Diluted, marginalized,

Blamed, and abused

The last remnant shrinks

Encircled by enemies

And dying by attrition. 

We had our blessings

And we had our treasure

As we Devolve into miasma

Decomposed and dead. 

Eating, breeding

And trained like dogs

We lap it up  

Spoon fed and dumb.

Accustomed to horror

And sacrificed on cue

We seek comfort in safety

Delusional and afraid.

We were lost

But now we wander

With ever dwindling means

And nowhere to run.   

We had, the last chance

But blew it all away

Blowing smoke circles

On a breezy summer day. 

So here we are

Looking over our shoulder

Haunted and hunted

Every step of the way. 

All that we had hoped for

Has crumbled to dust

As we sift through the rubble

For whatever we can save.

Many will betray you

In order to save themselves

Enriched, protected

Cynical and smug.

 

But even they,

Shall yet, gnash their teeth

Betrayed one by one

Losing everything

That they have craved.

The jaws are tightening

And the hot breath

Is upon our necks

Stalked by a new beast

Same as the old.