Epilogue

Attempts to slide pieces into place.
But they won’t fit with all this disgrace.
As the same old stories get written again.
It’s clear these moments are pointless pretend.
Where ashes turn flowers to a muddy grey.
Sitting above disorder while feeding decay.
And so we watch the sun fade to an ebony hue.
This is a termination point that no one wanted to view.
Yet viral contagion continues to scream.
Expelling corruption into our dominion.
Making paper crowns wither and die.
Fall of Babylon means nothing to us now.

Forged policy that only had one outcome.
Weak link that will always choke on disunion.
Foraging in realms swallowed by an abyss.
Dosing until there is seldom much but this…
‘Roid junkie sitting in a broken cell.
Everything they touch turns to hell.
Plummets from its place right to the floor.
Little left around for anyone to adore.
And yet we are all guilty in this collapsing gilded cage.
No hope to turn when there isn’t another page.
A tome that’s turned into our mass grave.
Headstone to mark how soon we’ll fade.