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.