Cheek scratched on concrete beak
gargoyles gone a-hunting.
Subtle subterfuge less mystique
bestial foils go grunting
on toward less forward a path.
Spectres in fear of confronting
damn them all – you do the math.
Sorry souls still are jumping;
doing, and then not doing enough.
Hard hearts continue thumping
till death owns all that other stuff
and scientists keep on debunking…