Howling in the night, the collective mind has gone mad.
The naked insanity crying out for a glimmer of hope,
My generation is lost and dead already.
Wired and glued to illuminations,
The pale-faced imagination has gone to the black oblivion.
Hiding on roof tops and around dark corners
The principles of virtuous thought lay waiting.
Alone behind a flamethrower of hopelessness,
We comfort each other in the cold dark night.
Despair and its lingering scent,
Following the partially clothed rawness as it sits silently.
Expression, feeling, all numbed by innovation.
Tears fill empty bottles of poison and we are consumed,
Drowning in our own delight.
Death is all we know and it is all we have.
The sun fails to rise on darkened streets,
And the insanity, the madness, has won.
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