Eagles and Pigs

Let the eagles pierce the sky And the pigs tear the earth For now our lips remain sealed By their thundering batons. We strive on with the unspoken Sureness of unwanted foetus Waiting to pop out in nine months In nine years, or who knows, In nine days or less. Sleep not dear bleeding renegades For the sun surely sets And the moon finds its hiding place. Yes, these arrogant flowers Will shrivel and wither when December comes And the raging wild fires Will eat up their useless stalks Now fresh and green In preparation for the new planting season.