Manifold Lens

When sorrow comes in summer days, roses bloom in vain
A tale that weaves a cursed malaise to bloat
And blacken tongues, tied in pain
Bloody vows portending harm
A knife begets the oath across the palm
Let the promise drip
Story-spinning survival machines
Colored by contagions
Spreading for their own sake
Sporadically imparting value
Ubiquity doesn't equal truth
Merely fecundity
They can kill us, enslave us
Help us, or save us