A Car Crash of Existence

Camouflaged calamity

Perpetrating humanity.

Alone in a dark room

Jezebel swoons 

To a broken face

Among the filth

and acerbic taste

That all too well

Captures our backwards race

The killer stands on the hill.

He begins to dig through the surface.

If he doesn’t fulfill his purpose,

lost souls of other shells will.

Transcending blood and bone

Whitewashed gallows groan

With no pounds of flesh

For its crossbeams to call home.

Cadences of car crashes

Resonate through the town.

The dolls all scream in horror,

Yet no eyes peer around

and no ear hears the sound,

of the landfill of existence

Slowly being filled,

as our meaningless tabs

are consecutively billed.

A sense of wrong and right

Is essential to deny

To convince those who came before us

That we’ll willingly comply

With our loss of skin

We burry our kin

In the holes of our mind

Delicately refined

Ways of accepting

There’s nothing to accept

The windowpane shatters

As we all enter death.