Dust settles,

silently against

their skin,

eyes glaring beside

gentle end,

those ticks turn forward

against face,

pacing rapidly

becoming ash,

floating in slow air

carried fast by words,

observed keen

paired with gunshots paced,

ignorance

in psychotic blood,

some dystopian

past flung like bodies,

without heart

those chants that fire hard,

This is the worst of us.

This is the worst of us.

This is the worst of us.            

This is the worst of us.