Maladies 


No fire in your eyes
No will in your bones
No passion to your lies
No truth to your tones

No whisper in your shouts and screams 
No sense in your melodies
No sharpness to your lights and beams
No method to your allegories

No menace in your growls
No strength in your anger
No, there’s no poetry to your howls
No questions to your answers

Great cares in your palace
Great pride in your wars
Great conceit to your beauty’s radiance
Great benevolent heroics to your lores

Great pattern in your chants
Great tact in your holdings
Great intellect to your rants
Great death to your dealings

Great misery in your joy
Great sincerity in your twisted apology
Great graves testament to your glancing coy
Great are you humans to me, generally

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