by A.V. Koshy
The world has tipped over.
Humanity spills and the bucket becomes empty.
From henceforth we count nothing certain
we do good in the face of insurmountable darkness
standing on an island
that steadily shrinks
while around us the ocean of insanity brims
The saints are handcuffed
Tomorrow's killers walk free and proud
on the edge of no return. Still Germans and guns?!
The new age's god is being born
The feathered seprpent!
Lovecraft would say, I prophesied it all
Mothers, eschew birth now on -
The Christ-child's sacredness is gone