The March Into Oblivion
the children cry,
salty tears meant for other faces.
the world has died,
deep shadows lay in place of sunlight,
shriveled grass
and
broken windows are
testament to the failing order,
a planet where decay is the natural law.
the piles of excrement surround the abandoned skyscrapers,
all just a sacrifice to the gods of the air,
an offering of sanity in exchange for existence.
the world we knew has melted,
a black sludge of despair remains
and we are left to fix the pieces of the creature we’ve broken.
man is law unto himself, feral and wild
abandoning his brothers, his home, he heads into the deep.
the oily darkness envelops him, a reversion to primordia
no longer is the hope of eternity a promise but rather
a threat
and so, eyes wild and frenzied, the few remnants of this fallen society
march onto the cracked highways, carrying banners of forgiveness,
of deceit and of hate.
carrying a torch whose flame has been spent, its heat exhausted,
man marches into oblivion.