The tree was standing

Long before we came to be

And will be after.



For all our titles

We still don’t seem to know who

Is really in charge.


The End of Atlas

And he broke his back

After he put all that weight

On tired shoulders.


The Keyhole

Look through the keyhole.

But not too close, because it

Might be looking back.



Now, pull the alarm

And watch as all their order

Turns into chaos.



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