Riddle XI

Welcome to disassembly town,

      Christmas came unintentionally early, On a wave of labels for everyone, With illegible names wrought of stitches on all corpse's skin, Cards that transcribe a chorus of no one but the autumn of humanity damned ever chaotic wanted, By any inspired means of hatred's forlorn death to empathy design, Harboring a toxic every trait undesirable by fate to uphold, This is the end of us all, Label's shattering any stable hands like ground to grasp, As tomorrow folds so it seems does our hope in the humanity within others we're unwanting to see... Or accept, That a thing beyond our overwhelmingly  enslave convinced perceptions could be an example of positivity, Despite our unsatisfaction in everyone outwith our label in this viciously short terminal life!

In lieu of,
Watching the mirror die!