Fade to Black

Fade to black, flesh to steaming stench.                                                                The coursers drive onward, compelled by burning wrath.                                     Transporting morbid cargo, of evisceration and contempt.                                    For all that was once held dear there is simply no respect.                                 

Of eagles and bright colored banners, flying high in the morning breeze,           And proud men at arms going forth, I could speak to if you please.                      But what of this wild spectacle that stirs the heart of every son?                           What of the killing-fields, demonstrations of what we've become?                     

The coursers fly onward, as day turns into night.                                                   Driving forth wicked demons, in their mad flight I delight.                                    For it matters not where they are going, only that they go,                                   To visit some other dark soul with their sadness and their woe.                         

You can stand before me, with matted hair in falling rain.                                    And I can lecture you at length of hypocrisy and hate.                                          And you could counter me with avarice, and irony and fate,                                 And I could have nothing of it, oblivious to your pain.



 (Poetry Page)