Pestilence

They live in the breadths between flickering eyes
To draw a tear would prove calamitous
Biding their few cherished hours in reticence
Afore Man sheds torrents over razor edges
In a landslide bereavement of mercy
Engulfing them in barbaric stupor and bliss
Only that from which ignorance brews
Frothing in bubbles of newborn strife
Blood quenching thirsty virgin soil
Savage shrouds of malignant thorns
Desecrating the very core of their nature
Gracious lakes alive with sensations
To viscous pits of tar on ashen shores
In the brow which the miasma lays