The Coming

It is coming Slowly, gradually But as sure as The next Dawn rises On the Eastern horizon Something bad Comes this way. Beware of the Calm, before The Storm. The pitiful screams From the abattoirs Of those Born in the Genetic labs Have reached a Crescendo The chimeras Rebel. Beware of the Calm, before The Storm. The multitudinous Spewed from the Wombs for Reasons, unknown Gasp and splutter Starve, cry and Bewail their Forced, wretched Existence. Beware of the Calm, before The Storm. The earth’s withered Veins Sucked dry Of its Black blood, now Yields silence And engines cease To a grinding Whine. Beware of the Calm, before The Storm. The Black Rhino snorts The Tiger laughs The beagle Smokes his last And deep In the mountains Of Cameroon The gorilla sleeps Gently in the night. Beware of the Calm, before The Storm.