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..