Screaming children crying hungry
as black tar coats this land
I cut myself to use my ink
for I mean to jot all this down

Eyeless people smash their heads against jagged stonework
I sit on a dead dog to write what I witness down
all is lost as we are up **** creek
hope it's not down to me or those poems
those ones written with venom vehemently
those poems to commit suicide to

Planes are falling out of the sky like apple blossom
and our machines have turned on us
we were once the masters
now just slaving *******
one chap just asked me for a gun
so I gave him one in his pain ridden face

Never disturb someone when they are writing
I write that down as he slumps to the floor
the music of discretion is dead
and suicide our liberation  


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris