No torch to pass

December’s dawn begins in midnight chill

as we stare in abject horror

at November’s spawn

Left writhing in the road

pathetic rearview spectacle

Terror turned luckless pedestrian

yet heartless we drive on

The new day dawns cold

the grey of all we have left

Our anthems echo in the emptiness

They declare frightened confessions

of liberation at sixteen

The uncertain nature of freedom

such risk can not be allowed

Driven to Disney’s plastic cocoon

attached to that warm bosom

and condemned

to a diet of sour milk

Drunk on this poison

Convinced of your mission

To save a rock in space

that doesn’t care if you’re here

Your tower of Babel awaits

the shrine of another

Utopia in ruins