The habitual sequences

We fall into, keep us alive.

Making us grow,

In a changing world

Of judgment and hate.

Reverberates the greatness of yesterday,

When our forefathers loved and accepted.

As we run astray

From the greatness, laid before us.

Consuming nations, and taking all that’s useless.

In a land of imperial darkness,

The sequences consume this portrait of love.

To bow down to the hate inside

Fathered by this consuming rage.

This sequence must die

In a blaze of glory

So that the next sequence

Finds life in another’s eyes.