language is a virus

angelic dust , sealing the ruins

the struggles of a mortal apocalypse

frontline of a lead presence

casualities of a nuclear accident

dissolving 

in a final breath

creeps in hours,

hangs in our heads

surround us in death

their violent rules impregnate - omnisciently

and pushes us back - forcing us to recognize 

how to recreate disorder and chaos

utopy in revelry

breaks through an ancient scenery, 

leads us here, 

teach us mere mortals

to subvert 

this crazy fluid reality

Do we speak words, or do words speak for us?

What do words say , how they say?

shall we use insightful words 

to praise a wonderland world 

or shall we gather our friends 

to instead question authority 

and think for ourselves

in a mission to astray control, 

and descontruct media constructed fallacies

under insidious words of war 

phrase yourselves, against shallow fatality

in the intimacy of solitude, the wolf is at the door

Burroughs once said,

"language is a virus, 

that someone or something out of this world spread through us"