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The Madmans Midnight
The Madman’s Midnight
Tis death again, that flutters in my macrocosmic mind
We may know not when, but it is easy to feloniously find
We wait with flourishing fear for the madman’s midnight
We adjust to a nourishing sphere of a fetal fervent freight
All hope, distant dawns; love may not help us to escape
We are only pawns, incoherent of all recrudescent rape
Shadows fill the room, smoke the abominable abulic air
The hands of doom approaching the midnight sapid snare
~~~
No fixes for the crucifixes all must come to an egregious end
Triploids thru empty voids we all must accumulatively ascend
Our affinity questions divinity before the final hematic hour
There are no signs in the callow confines as we scurry to scour
No more time as we climb the stairways to heavens or hells
We decide where we hide and thus form secret schizoid shells.
Feb.14.2018
The doomsday clock 2 minutes to midnight
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
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Winged Warrior
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