We clean up debris and stitch wounds
But our lips are stitched far more tightly
Basking in the silhouette of silver skylines
These vacant voices are maddening
Have I been amended since
My evils were birthed into this chaos?
Am I really so callous that
I ignore the pleas of my heartbeat?
Is it so far-fetched to ask for my exile
From mankind's tragic grand finale?
Are we all so burdened that
The beast doesn't even matter anymore?