Welcome to the theatre of the end of times !
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Tribal adornments parody .
Harvest of generations .
Heavy earth ,where seed becomes
false promise .
gall of the seasons .
bitter honey ...
Silence of roots chained on the belly
of the old tree .
'' Wife pour me a cup of wine ! ''
Said our father .(Hollow be your name! )
The herd rolls its eyes .
Birds of hell interrogating the mass grave
where innocence ceases to be a virtue ...
Let's sing and celebrate !
Putrescible memorial waters
and bubonic black friars !
the corpses boo the naked actors !
We take the father away
with the last cup of its blood !
The great mystery of the divine fish
was nothing but the failed dream
of a broken celestial mechanism !
Yet it turns !
It swoons ! staggers and links !
There where identically,
the curves are homologated ...
Lethal swoosh .
But do not believe the truth of the stars.
They are just insects,
pinned to the blue of a rag ...
If you question the mirror ,
only the void of social voice,responds ...
Desacralized echo of an inspired end .
Get out ,you ,masked ectoplasms !
Today's program includes a batch of martyrs
to be immolated !
Alleluia come on, come all !
Children must be educated with fallen heads.
In the kingdom of the blind ,
madmen fight over the crown !
'' Wife ,pour a cup of wine
to this poor heretic ! ''
Lets applaud the chaos of the times .
No one knows their role anymore .
Acta est fabula ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2026 11:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)
Offline)
Comments3
a fave
Thank you Norman !
much deserved
It's all a fable of folly, mirthful magic, a laughing joke of the gods. Black humor they say. Never the less in the Eden of the ignorant there is plenty of fruit on the tree, no matter that it is forbidden. What are they going to do shoot you in the head for noncompliance? Jokes on them then they have to support you and put up with your horseshit in paradise of hell. Would be a shame to fuck those two places up.
All this madness is not poetry but physiological necessity !
And so is life and life is poetry my friend
Dark, ironic satire of desacralized times. Impressive!
The real mechanics of the world seen under anesthesia .
Just choice between amputation or no life .
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