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Poem

Here It Comes

You never thought it would be like this;
The blaring horror,
The Apocalypse.
Where is reason.
Where is rhyme?
Where now the metronome of Time?

Where now the sense of what is true?
Where the distinction between Black and Blue?

Your shattered senses fall before the Force
You seek to draw the Best from Worst;
But in the end there is no 
End, no sense, no truth -
No distinction between the cares of Age,
The follies of Youth.

This is how it falls apart.
This the breakage of your heart.
This the end of all you knew;
Thus separates the False from True.

This is Chaos,
This the throbbing end -
This the final Truth
My friend.

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