Tuesday, May 16, 2017

The Setting Sun




















there is a nastiness in the rain,
cold and numbing,
brutally reminding its victims
there are no longer any friends,
no more refuge,
against the endless, mindless world
existing within;
on TV they are arguing about
Presidential whores,
while two hundred million
are just trying to make it;
one more day;
pretending and praying,
it will all just go away,
that it will be as it once was,
fresh and alive,
something new,
nubile innocence
lighting up the scarlet night;
but there is only death;
here below,
where even the mightiest lose their will,
the sun is setting
for the very last time.
.

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