We smile and sigh
Out comes a snake's hiss
Our world is festoon with broken promises
Azrael waits for the collapse
To share a kiss and embrace
Worn like laurels of victory post race
Our flesh falls away
Our dreams fade
Our morality is focused deeply
And solely upon our gain
Our joy focused on what should instead be shame
Our world burns
We never regret
We are oblivion in person
Our names the savior will forget
“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.” Omar Khayyám
