the morning glares
and i feel shame
choke me as
i open my eyes
from restless
slumber.
i have no hope
i have no food
and my soul is dying.

i have failed to
witness my mistakes
and transgressions.
now i fear it is
too late.
rectification of this
will be a long,
expansive endeavor.
one which the
circumstances of
these days
do not allow.

i fear these,
the days of our
extinction. inescapable,
inevitable, destined.
what can deliver us
from such a
foreshortened fate
but nothing.
not even our
so called genius.