Low Empire

Human comedy
As a fire without light
Hazy embers consuming people
Who born live
Love mate hurt and kill
Until death throes
This is what we deserve
Ill will frustrations seeing them succumb
The more you have the less you are
Like shadows in a dead theatre
Real did not happen nihilistic pathology
Frustrations ill will
Of failures seeing them succumb
To the part of themselves already rotten
Demeaning performances to feed the ruins
Of this civilization
Real as a feeling black magic illusion
And fiction empty the sky of its starts
To fill it with romance and theological fantasies