Bringers of the Final Weeks of Life
Getting back into the flow of writing, mostly with wordplay and poems. I'm a creative soul, from childhood to middle age, and my joy is to produce new things the world has never seen before. I'm an educator from the USA working as a college professor of lit and music. I'm learning to love myself little by little.
There is no Christmas morning planned this year.
We might not even see a Halloween.
The doom-predictions' date will soon be here,
And our defenseless bones will be picked clean.
We can see the waters rising, see the waves;.
They claw and grope and maul far past the shore.
The hurricanes destroy. Aggression paves
The further road to bigotry and war.
Disasters crowd the news more day by day,
And I can't tell if human hate trumps nature
All hope for our salvation leaks away,
As holes are poked by selfish legislature.
There doesn't seem to be a prayer to raise
As mankind rushes to their final days.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (4 so far!)
This certainly was a sentiment I agreed with last week. Humans seem to be bouncing back from disaster and trying to face the hatred head-on, but that battle is larger and more dangerous than flooding, fires, and hurricanes.
- #3065 Posted 2 years ago
This whole year has been a dumpster fire with few silver linings. I'm personally doing okay (for me) but I know that is not the norm for everyone. Nice subtle use of trumps. Curious on whether either of you saw Mother. Also not sure if you send in your work to publications but I could see this in a variety of places and would recommend that you do, if you don't already.
- #3075 Posted 2 years ago
This is quite excellent. Depressing, but well done.
- #3096 Posted 2 years ago
Thank you all very much.
- #4125 Posted 1 year ago
- Published 2 years ago.
- Story viewed 14 times and rated 0 times.
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