Jumbled, Indistinct Cries

Jumbled, indistinct cries
emit from bleeding lips,
and dilated pupils fail
to focus on reality.
It is the mass suicide
of freezing, starving, infantile,
confused and raging
children of the night.
Some strive to remember.
Most would sell their souls
to forget.
And I stand, my mind reeling,
my thoughts falling through
the cracks of time and space and void.
I stare at lonely faces,
drunken, staring back.
We are the dying and the dead.
We are the tortured and the broken.
We are the lost and the ignored.
We are the demons of this world
and the saints of the next.
We die too early
and are born too late.
We are the spawn of fate.