[Dead. It's all dead.]
____

The world lies frozen
At our feet.
Rusted monoliths
Stand watch.

The bones lie scattered
In the street.
Wrapped in burnt,
Decaying cloth.

Air echoes with
A deathly peace.
The empty roads
Are long un-crossed.

As we walk on,
Instruments scream:
"There's danger here,
Please don't proceed."

Nothing's here but
These machines,
Screaming signals
To our feeds.

On this harsh day,
Lonely shadows play:
The watermarks
Of a forgotten age.

Glowing decay
And burnt-out plague.
And mysterious vaults
Locked fore'r away.

If my skillet's unearthed
Some long time on
By somethings human,
They'd need a rune
To reveal the smells
Of Sunday breakfast,
The sizzles and grizzles
Of that relic.
It won't explain
What's to blame,
From first fire,
To my frying pan.

Heed not what you perceive
Enthroned inside a hopeless dream
You won't see tomorrow
Oh the throes of woe that follow

Order and fear con-
tinual indoctrination conditioning the masses
minds exposed to so-
cietal disease and fiction, damnation
Order through fear per-
petual misinformation
Transitioning to madness
Minds explode to de-
monical seeds of destruction
The eye emblazoned

With a sonic boom
Fate spins her loom
Mushroom clouds in full bloom
They fill the room
Wrought with endless gloom

Spell a certain doom
Now they're entombed
All reduced to statues
No ones excused
Global destruction

Patience, save it, face it
You're under watch
Forbearance, inherent
Ignorance apparent through our existence

Fighting til my death
Masses rising, the
Angels sing-Angels sing
Fighting til my death
Senses fading (I'm done)
Angels sing-Angels sing

Descending into the mind of Chaos-
The semblance fades
Triumphant, turn the tables
Now wake up
Arch-angels blare your trumpets

The end is nigh
Ride pale horse, take me to the edge of celestial shores unknown
Ascending light
Ride pale horse, take me to the edge of celestial shores unknown

You Gentiles,
Unwashed, unclean,
Prepare for war,
Come vent your spleen.

Beat the plowshares into swords,
Your harvest tools to mighty weapons,
Feel the surging doom and think you strong,
Gather  in the Valley of Decision,
The Valley of Jehoshaphat,
Where stand we all for judgment.

The Sun, the Moon, go dark;
The Stars remove their shine,
And full earth shakes beneath
The coming doom,
Before the lasting Peace
Descends on Israel.

I've got a prayer for you, my Lord,
It's not quite fleshed out, that's true.
I wonder if you can brandish your sword,
And cut us down to the few.

I know it's not the most popular
Or practical idea I could say,
But, let's face it, there's far too many
Of us to squeeze into heaven today.

Also, begging your pardon, my lord,
Most of us really are ****.
We could do with a culling,
Before we take off and split.

You see, we're spawning like maggots
And spreading from pole to pole;
Slaying each other in your name,
With oil and land the goal.

Evolution was really quite clever,
A red herring for white-coated nerds;
Genetics our new religion,
As dinosaurs turned into birds.

We forgot your purposeful message,
To do onto others your will.
Instead we shoot the innocent,
And send their families the bill.

We buy and sell gold in our temples,
Our banks our churches of greed;
We care not at all for holy prayers,
Crosses, or rosary beads.

So spare us your soul-searching piety,
Leave off your crown of thorns.
Pick up your sword, strong and mighty,
And sound from your terrible horns.

Is it too much to ask for apocalypse?

Is it really that hard to do?

Or maybe you're far from omnipotent,

Or maybe, just maybe,

Not true.

Utuqaq, the apocalypse,
won’t burn us alive by fire, no.
Mayans never spoke of *muruaneq
even in predictions.

Pirtuk, the apocalypse:
left behind in snowy bark,
footprints of squirrels
alarming at circling eagles.

Matsaaruti, the apocalypse —
the walking dead are peonies
furrowed on tombs. They’re not the end
though singing bowls sing

our breaths, icy and visible.
Siguliaksraq, the apocalypse.
Earth is grey and white;
pukak - the coming snow.

This used to be home.
This sweet darkness swallowing you up.
What fearlessness became this strength you claim?
You, who poetry evades.
We danced to the tune of your sorrow,
now sickly tunes of order pollute your mind.
Oh! The dread you did incite!
What choirs did cry!
You.
My rising little sin.
Did you not shudder when I pierced you?
When I drew upon you
tales that memory cannot forsake.
With blood so flowed your words,
creation in it's purest form.
What is your deepest fear?
That I have left you,
or that you are broken?
You are reaching into darkness,
clawing depths to the gears that grind the beauty,
to ignite the chaos you desire.
An unfamiliar beast lies in wait.
You do not know it's name.
The machinery has evolved,
advanced.
Your demons have left Hell
& you.
Abandoned.
You cannot see the God
growing behind your tongue
so build no coffins yet.
Light has macerated misery
but it has spoiled no talent.
You are not dead.
Horror still shapes
the Ragnarok engine of your hands.
A new Devil awaits
to prepare your throne.
If only you will
Rise.

Thudding footsteps
consecutive gunshots
Screams of agony
Brushing off the dust,
I looked up to see,
the colorless sky
much like a soul
being ****** out of a man.
It was finally here.
The apocalypse,
had embarked upon us
and it was because of me.