could we all take a moment, to simply recognize
that life is but before us, and deathly, coincides.
a quiet moment in the trees above the town.
the teeth of the oppressed chatter in the growing cold,
and if not tomorrow, today is getting quite old.
might I remind, trees lack leafs this time around.
the streets have filled to brims with Danes and Doe's,
while we protest, occupy, and fight, bleeding from our warm clothes.
must they all forget, foundations crumble from within?
so let's lock our doors, close the windows, and breathe the silence,
to the cannons of footsteps, approaching your door in defiance.
and as the black blood drips drop to drop,
so will they fasten their own wooden boxes.
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