Eve

The Eve Death is happy, the candy is out. Mountains and mountains, of sugar and sweets... for the little "treats" that come by the house willingly, to take from strangers, which... they will never, hopefully... know to closely. We watched it all, growing up and laughing, as the rest were all crafting. How did we not see? A Trojan horse in pretty colors, dancing, singing, and romancing... all at play, every day, a little closer to the end. The herald speaks out, the darkness gets deeper, and the wind rises. Even "It" knows that the time is short, and to do all that "It" can, before "It" can not. Winter is closer than you know, the Fall... is falling... and times are not, what you have been fed in the media, in the marketplace, the offices, the schools, even our homes, a helping, an extra ration of depression and grief. The brew is thick like syrup, the medicine unsafe to take. What is the reality of its visage? It is an evil... ugly goo. Stand up for what is right, or be consumed by what is wrong. There will be no spare baggage to one side or the other. Only the voices of the left behind, seeking to appeal their choices, once more, before the door closes forever. Yet... It will be too late.