futility
someday
the ones
those ones
they
will
come and
they
will take
everything
and it
will
be
useless
all your weeping
will not stop it
all of
it
will go
like birds
from gunshot
& desolation
will
sing
like a toothache
in your head
ringing
until
you
shatter
& stricken
the dog of the hunt
the god of the
hunt
will lift you in his
warm and feathered jaws
& bring you
back
finally
bring you back
BACK