With unrestrained self-regard
long have you marched on
serpentine asphalt paths
Uprooting rejuvenating threads,
An equilibrium callously left in shreds.
Catching scent of sludgy offal
that runs through pipes
'neath your vainglorious Castles,
Now Death has come to collect
for corrupting nature’s balancing act
So lock arms with your brethren,
wipe the blood from your hands
and pray that your bullets hold
Against Hellhounds of your own making.