The time in-between,
not dark, nor light,
the ether is in the mist,
his evil comes.
When times are hard,
and things are scarce,
the ether becomes the mist,
and his evil still comes.
The poor, once middle class,
now destined to for-ever be,
the one and only last,
and the ether greats us every day,
and his evil overcomes.
We look aside as not to see,
those who need, those who breathe,
and the horror of what is required to be,
in the ether his evil consumes us.
