Herding of the Masses

There is a disease in our species A bacterium that feeds on faces of the weak, A spreading paradigm of sickness and disease. Puncturing greatness and confidence leaks. There is a insecurity among our species, A herder tending to his sheep, A continuous need to follow, Abandoning the need to be. There is a meek shade of gray, Staining the people while they sleep, Loneliness with other colors, To be content amongst the weak. There is a set of wings amongst our species, Forced closed and weighted down, Feathers that speak of revelation, Are shed in heaps throughout this town