The Natural Poverty of Our Feeble and Mortal Condition
Jute Gyte, Adam Kalmbach
The past is dead
A corpse cannibalized by the present
To be regurgitated in fear and greed
In endless justification and apologetics
Human agency and its offshoots
The years grind jumbled and broken
Regret, nostalgia, grief-at-nothing
Grief and sleep, combined, enchaining
Care itself, in its very essence
Is permeated with nullity through and through