we have become desolated

we have spilled over the edge 

into something beyond our control

we are a forest fire

that makes the people cry

because they don't understand

they cannot understand

that this is only another

small apocalypse

in a place where we worship

those

who tell us to stay

and to go

and to hold on 

and to bite our tongues

and to keep quiet,

not to set ourselves on fire

and scream out that 

we are still alive

but it's alright,

isn't it

it's all alright

because soon 

we'll rip out their hearts

and lay them at their feet