They feed on the symbols of crumbling empires and rotten kingdoms,
until they gag but it won't show, they choke but they will never know
Oh, them ghoulish adorers of trampled life,
“traitors” inscribed on their brows
The trappings of the colors, the cages of belonging
Motherless, a shattered self, meticulous alienation
From everything, everywhere
Estranged from space and its particles
An allegiance of optics as misguided evidence of ethics
Nothing traverses, nothing gets through,
but the crack is cavernous, a gaping crevasse
in which the sounds of revolution meets nothing,
but its own echo, thrown back at itself,
in defiance, then no more, a laconic silence
Abstruse to affects, embracing the absence
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