What’s Next

Separate humans who learn from dismay. I’m sad as I strive: tell myself it’s okay. Half-lifes dwindle delerium decay the mental pathways sidelong the forray of forests burning ash in snow. Wind dims docile. Predator – pray. Rays of sunshine daze of hues: precocious precious rows of pews for beta haters gated in fury: fowl gnawing gnashing teeth – calcified calculated calculus meets a cactus thorny and horny, mabye so much as you, reader: unless you’re a machine who has nothing to bleed for. But bleeders may be ancillary at best; inefficient machines who power what’s next.