Et Tu

This poem sort of flowed from my frustration with people and the world.

Two tongues on the run
Again, and then a friend
Who's mind far behind
Has been awakened.
Each mouth gone south
In lying and trying
To break from the stakes
Of bleeding hearts forsaken.
Come, connote the throats
In which these noises stitch
This tapestry of cryers crying.
From hell this spell
Has cast the lasting
Play of fellow dyers dying.