Lost in the void.
They came to watch our burial.
Engraved upon a plastic plaque,
our names they etched with aerials.
Our shame left on the epitaph.
They came in chariots,
to come and carry us.
They came to save ourselves
from we we’ve done.
They sent the messengers
to come deliver us.
They came to save ourselves
from what we have become.
Lost in the void.
We spread like a cancer
and it’s far too late for answers.
Our crimes were inexcusable.
Upon our graves, they’d stand and laugh,
amazed with how we threw it all away.
Epitaph.
They came in chariots,
to come and carry us.
They came to save ourselves
from we we’ve done.
They sent the messengers
to come deliver us.
They came to contemplate our ways.
There’s no escape.
and all the winds of change
won’t save us.
Death won’t save us.
Death won’t save our souls