As the world dies

We change faces
We congregate in front of mirrors staring
Wishing waiting hoping we will remember who we are before the smile comes
What are you laughing at 
Do you think this is funny
This strange place called something
A lonely grotesque demonic urge that is roaming smelling tasting but never satisfied never satiated
Always complaining give me more give me more
I'm hungry I'm thirsty I'm ever lasting fire
Passionate human desire distilled into you or rather feeding of your spirit hour by hour day by day
Men know not the day or the hour of the return man burns he burns
Flames from the ether the 7th realm of zelater where the damned ones dwell those who laughed because of the veil of the vice
 A darkness that is illusion deception all but a distraction that leads those that are easily led 
And thus the blind lead the blind  smiling yes laughing yes perhaps like wise men
But yet a difference remains for they are lost lost and shadows close in gathering merging in a menacing overcast bewitched fog of choking fear filled sulfur
Yes just beyond themselves these dark specks spin and build momentum 
Every evil deed every scorn filled seed gives them meat so they feed they spin they grow and spread 
And thus the specks grow and create
More death only death for see they feed and exhaust life with they're presence of night
And thus man walks to death and brings death to the world

A poem by Liam Herdman