The body bags that enclose our lives
in a shroud of crimson disposition
never falter.
Never tear.
Never bleed.
The hallways whose bricks dictate our decisions,
and tell us where to turn, where to run,
never crumble.
Never erode.
Never breathe.
The battlefields that loom over our hearts
and crush our limbs with merely their shadows
never fade.
Never smolder.
Never cry.
And we, in all of our 'glory' will earn jaded retribution,
even when dynasties drown in their own lavish tapestries
of conquest,
and hunger eminates from the gods that feed us.
Industrial pollutants far outflanked by politically correct
disciplinarians,
who teach their children to carry guns,
and suffocate their elders for a little extra pocket cash.
Equality succumbs to the 'greater good',
and as we view ourselves in lithium mirrors,
we see ourselves in each other,
and  a new race of sadists is born.