We Are the Plague

We are the plague We are the execution We are the caged We are the revolution We are gloved hands We are patron saints We are shifting sands We are wet paint We are blind love Blind love We are blind love Blind love We are the change from burning transactions We are the flesh of our saviour born into putrefaction We are a full moon rising over a dead sea We are a billion voices shouting through a flickering TV We are a careless explanation written in blood We are the ark, and we are the flood We are a cycle of inverted reforms and monkeys in uniforms We are peanut allergies and fields of golden, swaying, patented corn We are blind love Blind love We are blind love Blind love We are abandoned children armed with automatic weapons We are performing circus lions and exotic snakes milked of venom We are empty hands reaching towards the inevitable sky Sweaty and naked beneath the weight of heavy disguise We are dangling, controlled by puppets in a long lineage of string A tangled web tied to the wind and oblivion We are the smoke and we are the fire We are one part of need and ninety-nine of desire We are dancing to the beat of our invention Living vicariously through fevered dreams in the fourth dimension We are blinkered and bare, shivering in the shade of longing Tethered to the status quo and the wounds of wronging We are rules and regulations and survival of the shittest We are blood diamonds, safe spaces, and long Christmas wish lists We are a stuttered word and an upward inflection We are the plague, we are the infection We are blind love Blind love We are blind love Blind love We are blind love Blind love We are blind love Blind love Love