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– Daedalus Mourns –

I stand upon a barren field,
covered with black oil slick,
twisted metal and tangled wires;
pieces of yesterday’s relics.
Our world is broken,
drowning in the sickness of itself.
It covers me,
strangles me,
binding me in the entrails
of its toxic waste.
We are the architects of our own demise,
our society reaching the point where the brain
can no longer tell the body to die.