I 'm writing to you from a country
that now exists on the faceless dead .
The iron candlestick spits smoke
from the crematorium
and the star finishes its meal
by burping napalm ...
I am writing to you
from the belly of a land
so sterile ,that's no longer
even serves as a tomb ...
green-greyish clouds
concealing the shame of heavens...
Close your lips to the dust
that tasts punishment !
Call to the judgement of times,
everything ,weighted,counted, divided !
The head of the false messiah
will fall on the sand !
The bitter nettle flower
will overrun the old temple wall ...
Crows will feast
disguised as humans
under Ahriman's plumage,
devouring their own children...
Sarah ,the Moloch will claim
the fruit of your progeny
and you'll find your way back
to wandering ...
I'm writing to you
from a earth
that will grow green
on the price of blood...
( Prophety of the century )
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 15th, 2025 06:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments4
Biblical in nature this poem cries a warning to the reader. Nicely imaged. Well done
Book reference in form .Prophetic in content !
A poetic treatise on the end of history, where man has become both the priest and the sacrifice of his own utopia. Powerful metaphors give the poem the force of an ancient curse and a tragic warning. A piercing text!
Nowt left but carrion and weeds where false gods once prevailed. A profound and brilliant passage of poetic literature.
Kind regards,
Tony.
The time has come for Armaggedon !
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