Poem

[mors_rutilus]

In Dionsysian wilds
We grow fat on tragedy,
And wine flows from vines
Of swollen tongues-
Orgiastic revelry,
Barbaric desires.
Madness clashes with civility.
Apollonian seers
Gaze with distain upon
Our drunken, sunken state.
Rant, rave, and murder
The Reasonable Voice of society.
We breed a new generation
Of base heathens.
The future will be ours.