Downfall by Ann Christine Tabaka

Disbelief shall be our loss,
wading through deception.
Want and desire play their
hand against fact and fate.

Like so much sour milk,
our longings spill out.
Transformation resists,
a stalemate results.

Incredulous masses
stand their ground,
disregarding what
lies directly in their path.

Over time, downfall imminent.
But, who shall stand for right?
We wear our blinders so well,
when we follow prideful ways.

Turning our heads,
diverting our eyes,
in the end we slither past
death’s mournful call.