Who was the dancer of death?
You went for the kill,
and not for the killer.

The frail armistice. You
launch a drive for the drill.
It was more than what―

meets the eye. Looks like an
Armageddon. You begin in earnest
to ward off the paranoia.

Nativity was at stake. A
captive psyche fights the fading
memory. Your face goes blank.

My things and your things.
It should not have happened this way.
It should not have happened that way.