Norberto Franco Cisneros Poet Prose

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.

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John Bertin March 7, 2017 at 6:06 PM This is great.. it echoes my inner ranting of the last eight months. This poem should be scrolled across the screen during the news. Norberto Franco Cisneros March 7, 2017 at 6:15 PM John, thank you for your enlightened comment, would that it could be.