day's end

The ghostly breath on cool panes of window

Hush is the sound of nothing more or less

If death were to turn anew and billow

The sky were grayed while Earth struck with illness

Then broke heroes fixed antagonists

Our loved children would grow to be fearsome 

Perhaps even the lowliest artists

Would kneel to catch sight of what we’ve become

The brink of ends, lower than we’d admit

It’s washing the brain, stunting difference

Compliance is final, burden’s twin

Losses sink fast, they are the evidence

Of a generation bent to fall in

Too late is now, what of words we had omit