What was any of it for...?
The lust, the want, the gore.
Reaping still, the awful seeds of war.
Implanted in your mind and cells.
You used to think you knew them well.
A moment's loss. The cost is too severe.
Your great control is flying out of gear.
Unlike the olden days of wash and wear.
Masks that weep a porcelain refrain.
Melting in the drops of acid rain.
Losing more than anything you'd gained.
Wandering through all your wanton pain.
Wrath-filled questions never answered.
Meaning pleading some disaster.
Tell me, what was any of it for...?

? Michaelette ?