Plague.

We, the rot gut sinners.

We are the locusts of consumption, You and I.

We devour and gorge on things that are not ours.

We question why nothing good is left.

We lie awake in the long winded hours of the night.

We stare at the hands God has given us and we are terrified.

Over and over again we recount and re-catagorize our inequity

like amnesia ridden librarians.

Innumerable lovers have we known.

We, the rot gut sinners.

Whorish desires that sparkle in the dim lights of want and need.

So easily we are lead to the slaughter by the promise of empty chests.

Upon poisonous figs of rot do we feast.

We, the rot gut sinners.

A beautiful shimmer in complexion but death from within.

For how long can this go on?

For how long can death sustain death?

I wish us not to be the generation of apathetics.

"Well they sure did have good intentions." They'll say.

We, the rot gut sinners.

We, those who are afraid to jump from any height.