I can see the future, a field and a forest

where horror howling hangs from trees

by fibers, like numbers, haunting masks

red-hued and craggy, jagged scars

everywhere on the street, in the street

they breathe a rhythm with the fading heartbeat

of the city, we see the future set

to grow as the world shrinks, exploding

through the picture frame, finding out what is

true human will, seeing the universe

as a coliseum, rather than flags we plant

knives in the backs of brothers

and sisters, I am so scared.

 

The sin curve will break, no doubt

hard as could ever be, I will breathe

blood and sweat, until I’m old and dead

8 times out of ten, I won’t get to see it

when the world is heaven, unbound and borderless

house to a dying breed, knives out of our teeth

at last, so that we can finally grow

truly together, but I’ll be having fun

in the carnage, because I am an artist

of the downfall, flowing over humps and rapids

taking pictures of the trip, I’m pretty sure

hopefully, because there’s always the chance though

I don’t like to think about it, that war is coming..