Pandora Poem by Dylan KD.

Narrate the symptoms to the dawn of death's front gate
to plough throughout the heavens with a solid, graceful hate
deluding news while on the shuttle of your fate
who amuses who while the snake sleeps in your wake?

Who's to choose what entity is to end on this date?
The muse of wretched mincemeat dims upon the lake
so float out upon your wonder, wound with breaths of tape
to lose in case the 'you' should return back to death's front gate.