Sickening, it sickens me.
All the way to the bone.
What I’m seeing, and all that I know.
Retched, putrid, fully alone.
This place, it is cold.
The luxury of compassion, gone.
I strive to see its forgotten foe.
Destruction, is all that it knows.
From one window, the world turns.
Inside, with the cacophonous mind.
Seeing, without doing.
I wonder how I survive.