Continue

As we near the start

We are drawn to the unknown

As we near the end.

Attention

The mind plays lucid

Some may flounder, others rise

Focusing never.

Aristocrats

Atrophy bred with

an heir of indifference:

Scent of the soigné. 

Blades

A monstrosity,

Cursed quoin of the Empire,

Blessed guillotine. 

Hunters

Plunged into the deep

We crawfish beneath the rock

To study our prey.

Nature

Is it our nature

To be engaged or gander

In times uncertain?

Journey

We decamped at dusk

Bound only by the tree line

Abandoned by time.