Answers Lost

King of the vultures

Circles in the sky

Searching for truth, that’s gasping for air

It bids it’s time and waits for death

To tear into its fresh, delicious flesh

Truths getting rare, difficult to sight

Slaughtered by zombies

It has turned extinct

Mindless slimy pompous zombies

Ceaselessly spreading, the virus of lies

That the vulture king, keeps doling out

Very few, now have any questions

That rise in their mind, that’s not yet dead

But the answers they seek

And those providing them

Lie rotting in the sun

Under the vulture’s gaze