From the struggles of a blanching faith to the demise of hope turned gray.
The thoroughfares now deserted, Lead to the tombs of reason.
The stench of forced sanity, now out of bounds, rises unchained.
Fear settles its moth-mouth over eyes that see all, until roughened blackness blots out the smoggy light.
And we, the blinded passers-by, the guardians of all triviality, the keepers of soured trust, must trudge along.
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