As far as my cards could take me.

Burning holds my middle ground
Where I thought I could remain unscathed,
But was all too soon tracked down;
Turning holes out daily
To saturate parades,
And ventures there impaled.

Congestion hovers briefly lit
By those about their exodus,
With thoughts of things worth benefit
Gone lest they covert too much space;
Succumbed where others have
Endured along the way.

Unfurled and rolled around the block
With looks over their shoulders,
As if uncertain stock.
A world of average summary;
More than they were when here
Or where they wished to be.