The night is still and overlit. No one even knows how close to death they are. They go about their days, not questioning all the faces they see on screens, telling truths.
Hidden walls are covering the understated emergency, guiding all our cognition and our base desires. Blank expressions implying a calm, collected safety. Folded sheets of printing paper, empty words in telephones.
Information of the undetermined. We all fall deeper into the hole. So many dying breaths obscured by shouting men, unnoticed by others, their warnings unheard.
Still for a moment, just for a moment, take it in all together. Speak ever coldly and carry the smallest torch.
While the world is crumbling beneath your feet, you will let it go.
