The ants were arguing about virtue
deep in their caves of ignorance
Supreme virtue growing out of unsettled vines
Desperate vines that only live
in these long abandoned tunnels
Vines born out of poison minds clinging
to the failures of missing pleasures
I feel the anticipation of war in a loaded gun
alive, wet and waiting to swim the Dead Sea
Tell the ants to fire only when they see these vines of virtue
climbing into the eyes of themselves
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