Atavism as life, the hills have gone silent
Scorched by the earth and the bite of the wind
Gnawing hunger from within, I aspire
to the hills and needful horror.
The resources scarce, I acquire
the want and need to feel the heat
pantomime, forgotten
I have become a liar
Is it different that it is done away from my eyes.
Mechanized rationalized...life as
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