Eugene S.

Portents

I feel the darkness coming
Ever forward in the lucid air

It is all like a feeling
of a stormfront rolling
on a world laid bare

I feel the sober blade falling
Why is it I no longer care

Is it rest I am seeking
from a world ever making
all so blatantly unfair

I feel a reckoning hanging
For all our peoples unaware

As the deaf keep on talking
And the blind keep on walking
On a path to God knows where

I know a black beast is prowling
Having seen the haphazard snare

He will keep right on crawling
As his pack will keep calling
No more must they beware