Planned Obsolescence

We've been transfigured into the muted words stapled along their jawlines
What they never remembered or thought to mention

And the word escapes me at the moment, but maybe it never existed in the first place.

And local color, and spectral forces, the grotesque and absurd. Myth and structure and degeneration. Family and new forgeries.

I am become a demon.

But there was a time, there was a...
Blood spilled, choirs sang, and I'm afraid I must have been asleep in a ditch somewhere miles and miles away.