The Crowned Dead
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The Crowned Dead
The growing of green things,
should concern all of us.
The fires burning in far lands,
can still reach US(a).
There are all kinds of flames.
Not all are hot, some are ice cold.
They drive you to run into the sea,
even as it boils.
Fear of toxicity,
and death by chemical cast-offs,
or delinquent occurrences of stupidity.
The world is slipping closer
to the orbit set at the beginning of time.
Prophesied and foretold,
to the level of awareness,
none will or can be naive.
The plain sight of news,
media playing games,
tiny titans of power...
bereft of might,
and liberty used as a weapon.
The enemies at the door.
Sky buses full of horse droppings,
fraudulent reasons to spread chaos,
further among the peasants...
staring into their TV's for signs,
"They" do not want seen.
What are the number of the sick?
Have you seen the cities of the dead?
They are vacant and made of concrete,
that crack(s) from lack of zoning requirements.
Tainted miss-shapen causes,
to focus not on the Light of tomorrow,
but the darkness of today.
Is this a mirror of what you dished out?
Have you killed others to build your world,
upon theirs?
Beware.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2020
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