Pigs sniffing around
For mushroom clouds,
In an orange sky, we’ll drown-
Praying and shouting.
Our shadows shrouding
These strong, brick walls;
Staining skyscrapers,
With our shattered ghost.

Skin will combust
And we’ll settle into dust.
Fungi puffs will multiply,
As tears turn to ash, and dry.
Death comes in a sizzle;
Demise served by porcine people,
Searching for power in a truffle
Creating a ruffle and a ripple.

-SLuR