The Dregs Necrotic

Bodies move in succession

dripping with acrid indifference

a multitudinous progression

overwhelming the environment

these bodies gather unwittingly,

pushing, shoving, bumping, 

comatose to the failure of existence

having mindlessly given up

any pretense of resistance

to what must surely come

the bodies move decaying

squawking and forever spraying

words that have no shelf-life

touting the benefits of a purpose

in the face of a nothingness

that your god simply cannot explain

whether we are given purpose 

or create our own

we all go away in the end,

so we become numb again

prescribed a drug,
the opioid moment,

to quell the anxiety
of the ever present,

effervescent end.