I’m winning whether or not I know it, because
in the end I will have won, which is what we provide to all of us
the sense of victory, like deal-makers and carpet-layers
of the apocalypse, they will be remembered
by the forgotten, the agents of doom
planted in the ground, the artists unknowing will sweep
rendering all efforts fruitless, for only feelings alike thrive
as flowers at dawn, facts are like dust
in history books, specks might come
to be the seat of power, cementing expressions is necessary
facial stasis, for this fear of the heartless
craftsman is the highest ideal, for it is love
cowering from the threat of losing you, it is not weakness
O society, you darken the created day
with the sky falling, powerlessness provides a tonic
or mixing with liquor, pity and privacy
will be written down, remembrances of the past
as it really was, foggy.