Architects

As above, so below.Dismantled piece by piece,What’s left will not decease.As within, so without.The seasons bring relief.Just let me live and die in peace.I will be consumed, returned into the earth.Only passing through, nothing left to hold on to.Like the thaw against the snow, into the undertow.

The workers all march to the beat of the drum.Their spirits are broken,They have nowhere to run.They dream of courage and a loaded gun,But the slaves all know,They better bite their tongue.Track marks across the planet.Are there any veins left for them to infect?They would kill one another just to disconnect.