(no subject)

What fills a hole?
What bends and bleeds, to fill the cracks and mend the gaps?
When ever larger grows the yawning abyss,
When shall such be corrected aright?
For what reason lies it thus agape?
For what cause yawns the maw so widely?
A scar upon the landscape ever expands,
A livid welt upon the surface, yet not only.
The veins dwell deep within, pained and raw,
The pulsing sound of too solid lacuna.