Following like children at the zoo.
Wondering if the sun will rise again.
Son now fallen!
Fallen by choice.
Cool wind chilling.
Frigid hearts.
Warmed by his death.
Unconcerned.
Because: lies.
Cold and dead.
Only human.
Not a single tear shed.
When the son fell.
Night reclines,
hearing their call.
Zombies never walked,
among the living…
Darkness is…
One moment,
another dead brain cell.
Because another preacher,
came too quickly on their masses.
Arctic whites,
charcoal blacks,
zombie grays.
Coffin fairy tales.
Do not lend them aid.
Do not give them,
benefit of a diagnosis.
They. Need. Lies.
Death to the light!
Keep them productive.
Keep them quiet.
Keep them stupid.
Children of the nails.
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