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Life is a game

True love is atrophy

Seething, our veins race

Decaying in entropy

Swing o’er the waiting void,

a yearning black abyss

The body lays so still,

Knowing what awaits

True love is atrophy,

As will fade, a beautiful flower

Though you can preserve the flesh

The soul shall be devoured

Molded in imperfect forms of god

so blindly

Infarction of the bleeding heart

Pounding death, the earth’s collapse

No shortage of corrupt ideals

Collective conscious …. heart attack

Withering, the pulse of life