Squirming In Eternity
The storm is coming
The beast comforts himself
His minions hold great hope
And wait for his magic
The world dies a little each day
anticipating the deluge that’s lying
on the fringes of extreme narcissism
and madness
Nothing stands long if hatred is its base
and exclusion its driving force,
surrounded by a mono-colored landscape
saddled with an empty spirit
Those with great expectations
Lacking critical thinking
Believe the world will be theirs
And maybe it will, for a small minute
Until their delusion and sham opens our eyes
before their humanity is torn from their souls
and leaves them squirming in eternity
we may end up praying to an empty cloud.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment