Drums of Calamity

From ramparts of present day insanity

rain down pauses

of madness bringing melancholy,

of insomnia bringing no relief,

of headache from examining

the opponent’s mind’s eye

which proves to be none so blind as.

Faith rides away wearing worn silver slippers,

truth rides in as merely a roadside attraction,

both clutching faded memories and choking down tears.

hoping for ambivalence, instead getting malevolence.

Scent of fire all across the ether,

muffled by the weight of stone mindbars

concealing darkness rising.

Little plastic men walking naked,

tethered to slanted, stripped truth,

Pretending to be masters of their fates

while ignoring the chalk outlines of reason and logic.

False troubadours never quit singing,

stuttering in their background voice

“what begins as utopia ends in tyranny"

really only pretending to acknowledge it.

Till, when in the middle of their songs,

clattering of drums of calamity

can no longer be ignored.