Plagued

Tears flow fervently from the fountain of dearth and despair 

As moments seem unstoppable amidst storms and turbulence

What's struck has already stricken

What's left is already fissured and fragmented

As contusions begin to appear 

Not on the face but in the core

Deep within...

Still alive...

What's lost is unreturned

What's found is devoid and nothingness

Soaking in the canard of pretensions and ambidexterity

Fabricating a make-believe world of reality that seems so real

Untarnished and untempered by the tangibility of humans

Become the slaves to virtual existence despite reluctance and unwillingness.