Pray to Poe for stimulus.

Pray to God for apathy.

Well wishers and strap holders

insinuate in blankness,

attack in sleep’s deep hold

the webs of forlorn conscience,

the broken bridges of neglect.

Cross the heartland.

Hope to diet.

Ring lords’ relentless retaliation

have furrowed the maps of history

and seeded an underworld of screams.

Dreams broken and corroded

litter the caskets of imagination,

an endless world of tears that never dry.