Gone

From perfect lines of symmetry
nature shrinks away from me
to fading zones that we protect
then, for a dream of gain, we wreck

Fleeing from my shadow
a spider runs away
I squash it with one movement
and stare at what remains
Here, so dead and dying
Above, I'm what can stay
I'm Death and Earth's Disaster
but Earth made me this way

If these forces are in order
and these angels walk these streets
how, then can we triumph
in the face of this conceit?