(Recent events speak for themselves.  Day 341…)

From the corners of the ceiling, feel it’s eyes in back of me.  I couldn’t tell you why I feel they constantly after me.  Maybe it’s because the news put it to me so graphically.  How niggas don’t obey no laws, no even gravity, boy?

We don’t know how much time we have left
They’ve taken the hands off the clock
And placed them around our necks
But at least we can see their faces more clearly

The second hand is red
It ticks to our pulse
So I hope we’re speeding towards air that’s fresh
And not hastening the arrival of our last breath

I guess rope is outdated
So they strangle us with something immeasurable
An infinite instrument of death in the hands of people who whitewashed  reaper robes
Burned our lifeless bodies
Feeding the ash into the hourglass
Laughing at how pile at the bottom

That beeping you hear in your chest is the alarm
Don’t suppress your heart for a few more moments of rest
The time for action is now.