Miasma

	Dark movements in broad daylight
	Ramparts crumble, a sign to all who enter this place:
	Through cracks in this visceral wall, sometimes more than truth escapes
	How weak we become, as it leads us astray
	Our own reflection often takes the biggest toll,
	Scarring us the most
	An orderly exchange of guilt
	No conscience cleared
	No final word
	As bright lights in dark skies promise to take me away