#13:7

The steam is running away with my ability

My ability was taken by the means

The means were all granted reprieve

When the master set loose the hounds

On the meek.

My slumber interrupted

When the dead were set to rule

And the ground shook

with great fear of the news.

Robes were taken from their closets

old doctrine dusted and reloaded

An order to bring fear

and mass to the massless

Whether they wanted needed

Or bemoaned it

Trees felled for old tomes republished

And rules retranslated

to hasten the warming

The melt uncovering old virus

retooled by fools in disguise

Stolen words more ancient than

the oldest masters’ dying eyes

It’s not yet too late

But the sickness has set in

To crack the weakest points

in this resource gain game

and the cure wasn’t made

to bring back the normal

that caused all this pain

Nor is it for

mankind’s prideful triumphs

furious follies

Or it’s slow burning

fade into the grave

The cure it seems

is for he and me

feel fortunate that

we’re sharing

Because he wants it

To be