Light at the End of the Tunnel.

Or...How I learnt to make suicide look like murder.



Define the stability of
this approximate quanity
of unmeasurable force?

The stars choke on the toxic
fumes of our existance.
A thick, disgusting smog
surrounding the celestial
sunshine. We cannot
see clearly as our
dreams foretell. Can we break
this mere mortality's spell?

I hope not.
Existance is futile
when you know that radiation
runs through the steams
of time.

Our time is precious,
don't let your timer
run out on you.

Cloaked in the bitter
yesteryear, deaf are we
to the stutter of rifles,
the pounding drum of bombs.

They explode and
we watch on, sending
mockeries dressed as aid.

I am a Treblinka doctor.
See my unforgiving hands?
See my cold sneer as I see
the torture on the television?

"Oh, how sad.
How drastic! We ought
to send them some blankets."

I hope that we will all die,
no just I, but us all.
We be removed from this
Earth, like a tumor.

May God forgive us all!
For I know, I won't
drop the subject
so

easily.

You're getting far too good, you know that? I especially loved;
'The stars choke on the toxic
fumes of our existance.
A thick, disgusting smog
surrounding the celestial
sunshine'