Among the Falling Stones

Crawl — among the locusts and worms
And sing their masochistic hymns
Fall — of the morals within
A poetry of mockery
Grave — sonnets of sarcastic eloquence
Too light to sink
Grim and empty extasy
The suffocating empathy
Put a price on sacred thoughts
Feast on feces on a silver plate
You wish for pain
But you are numb
And so you feed your children
To those without a soul
You wallow in their puke
Dung beetles in spider webs
I feel like a feather
Among the falling stones
And thus essence flows
Down — into the sewers
A breed so acyetic
Pigs — that swallow all
Cast me out
Out of life
Life that means
«Meaningless»
Emptiness to compensate
Bile sludge to masticate
An entire cutural history