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how quickly does the pain wash over
leave the broken pieces where they fall
a bleeding wound that keeps dripping
all my complaints are now so small
what do i do with this ball of rage
that burns in my gut like a promise broken
how many days will it take me to age
and forget the echos of whispers spoken
then i also think perhaps i needed this
a brutal wake up call, a fist in the face
i guess we all needed this
this call of the void, the unknown

insignificant

how little do all things matter
the pains, the trials, the daily irks
when the fist of doom batters
on the creaking door of a pillow fortress

the invisible becomes invincible
while we grasp at straws
as the world falls into a bottomless pit
with no way to get out

so where will your gods run to now?
will they suffer with us lesser mortals
which ones will you eat first?
when the flames reach your shores

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here's hoping we all get through this in not too many pieces.