Bringers of the Final Weeks of Life

There is no Christmas morning planned this year.

We might not even see a Halloween.

The doom-predictions' date will soon be here,

And our defenseless bones will be picked clean.

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We can see the waters rising, see the waves;.

They claw and grope and maul far past the shore.

The hurricanes destroy. Aggression paves

The further road to bigotry and war.

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Disasters crowd the news more day by day,

And I can't tell if human hate trumps nature

All hope for our salvation leaks away,

As holes are poked by selfish legislature.

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There doesn't seem to be a prayer to raise

As mankind rushes to their final days.