The drum beats on.

An unholy rhythm.

It builds our fear,

with its ever louder thrum.

Voices mingle,

monotone.

They flit between.

Buzzing bees.

Marching on.

Time calms its pace not.

If anything it gets faster.

Ceasing to fail.

Failing to quit.

It drives the breath from sanity.

Tearing into the soul.

Burrowing into the spine.

Suckling on the marrow.

The drum beats on.

The drum beats on.