You are in the Lions’ den and you
Don’t even hear them roar.
You are in the belly of a whale and you
Don’t notice the air turning to water.
You are at the bottom of the food chain and you
Don’t fucking care.
You choke a little, cope a little.
You see the lions circling, the vultures circling,
Your world is spinning.
Your lungs fill with water and you
Choke a little, cope a little.
You’d rather not run though.
My fight-or-flight senses are broken,
You deduce.
You are stuck to the ground, you are frozen,
Paralyzed by something.
You are waiting.
Rats nibble at your feet and you
Find yourself
Waiting on something to happen.
You look for excuses
To keep going.
You see the ruins, crumbling down on you,
And you wonder about their story.
Is it the same as yours?
One thing is for certain,
You will either die
Or decay living.
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