Better Demons

we sought after them,
our better angels,
and learned that they had died
or fled this battlefield
in favour of less insane ground
from which to watch the conflagration;
and so now we’re caught
appealing to our better demons,
our less destructive demons,
to pull us from this fine mess,
this water-logged, sinking ship, SOS
that we’re sure to drown in,
if only a little,
for the hands that would pull us free,
they also want to push us under
and be done with the whole, stinking lot.

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