losing by the minute

Gather round the gears that crank

machineries that run on hope

where children play on streets of blood

preparing their demise

Find the holiest of cows

and bring it down to slaughter

whence the food is grown

that feeds the minds

whose stomachs never cared

You never learned to cry for food

and still, you never hungered

to spill a cup of unmasked tears

my body keeps a score of points

I struggle to collect, in grief

these widowed limbs

and undead mind

I’m losing by the minute, still

no thought can bring me peace