In the talons of humanity clasp,

The rats that plague these somber streets.

Fortune held in hands firm grasp.

At the corner, laughing man deeply bleats,

Behold I who have no iron in veins by society quenched.

Awakened by hands like that of falling snow,

A deep draught, leaving bleak mind unfenced

I see in her eyes all I did not know.

Breathing dust through mortal lungs, staring into skulls of forebears,
Realized hope crushed underfoot, vacant socket still lifelessly glares.