---

We imagine our future as if there are guarentees when in reality only death is the sole propriator of all invention

These proverbs which emit from every glowing tower, red eyed and salty with the brine of loss and ashen astonishment

And our ignorance, these bricks that have constructed the foundation of our shallow essence

Chaos always comes, it will spin us around like the slap of authoritarian wrath

Ordained with words of our faith, ablaze, these effigies formed from the fallacies of love