The uncertainty of universal lies
resolutes itself much like a hungry snake
around the skin of its prey-
the unseen, the unknowing, the uncharted,
finding recharges in people, in sacrifice, in sickening blood,
till the conviction spreads to the limbs of their dead,
till the screams are chants of appraise, of love;
cherish the old gods and the new,
cherish the dedicated deaths, the forseeable lies,
one day, the world must be forgotten,
and only then can you hope to die.
Elusive Mummers 