The future of the world
feeds on the blood of our ancestors
and reaches down
into the strange fruit
of our bowels with its political fangs.

I look into the orb of mystery
and call out to our crying children
which cry tears of pain.

Their cheeks are rubicund with war
and the moon laughs
like a maniac of pain.

In the Distance I hear a man
proclaim, “I see the Road! I see the Road!”
and I walk down the ruined path
of destruction looking for love.

I look in the cities of lust
where wicks of passion fizz,
but only my yearning for you
can bring me tenderness
like cotton skies.

Come to me and let me enshroud
you from the dangers of the world’s lies
so your blood may only be supped
by me.

I sup like a child always wanting more.
I see hope in your eyes as you say the world
will continue until we give birth
to the warriors of tomorrow.

I have looked into mine and eyes
and seen the coming of the. . . horde.

And then I woke up.