Food

Once upon a time:

There were people who were happy,
there were smiles to be had.
Everyone had a mother,
and everyone had a dad.

Then a wretched storm came,
and there was hope for none.
Nothing less than tears,
until the day was done.

There was no rain or clouds,
no thunder and no strikes.
There were only tombstones,
dead grass that no one likes.

Welcome to the children's table,
where adults are left to rot.
There's no longer sense or reason,
lost are all that's sought.

We sit and stare at walls,
where not a thing's been hung.
Trained to think that death,
is something to be sung.

If death's been in your blood,
it's something more to you.
It never leaves, it never sleeps,
there's nothing you can do.

It's hidden in your laughter,
and crooked in those smiles.
In all you've given thought to,
in all your given trials.

Who gives a shit who brought it,
it lives within us all.
Whether rhyme or reason,
was reason for the fall.

You know it eats the strong,
the wicked and the weak.
It tears through all the nothingness,
what horrors that we speak.

You think you can beat it?
Just you sit and wait.
You are no god, you are no saint,
you're not a thing but bait.

It's times like this we feed,
and times like this we prey.
Food for the wicked, the weak, and the strong,
as we come out to play.