What we don’t understand, is what we can’t control
It’s the killer in a passage of doom.
There is nothing you can do for protection from its slaughter...
You’re hope allows false assurance to wrap your slippery fingers of inclination around its neck of thistle
But, the unknown will abandon you in a pool of bloody, decaying hope.
Others have echoed warnings for you to just let go and let your god
But the specter whispers no such tongue, instead it tightens the noose and hangs you from your faith upon fiery despair
The unknown desires for you to drool for regimen and comprehension
But Your species speaks no such dialect...
It’s so damn difficult to accept...death, destruction, disease and desire
So, you hit cruise control on the luminescent highway of habit where all the plastic weeping willows are planted...
Blocking your eyes from the rays of threats....the unknown