Doomsday.

Don't ask, don't tell. Yeah, I nicked the title from Doctor Who. Sue me.



I can feel the fear lapping at my feet
like the sea that used to govern our world.
No more, the author has erased her past
mistakes and we are in the firing line.
The metaphor turning into time. My flesh
is burning into sulphur and the anxiety
is rife.

My god - to live for this?

As I dream during the day I hear the thousand
amens.

Allah; God; Buddha.
Ha! Where are your spiritual
comfort blankets now?

Each prayer knocks me out and I
dream of the dystopia we all leave behind,
so soon, so soon.

The catastrophe of the tapestry of life.
You knew it was soon, you knew you knew.
You sat and pondered thoughtlessly
and agreed with your schizophrenic idols:

"We'll all be dead, we should enjoy
what we have. Next generation will deal
with it. They will have the technology."

What a lie. It is proven! Liar, liar.
I'm glad I never trusted you and your
pinstriped suits and crude oil boots.
The pale tongue should be black as
the wide-eyed children's hair.

Outlined
your maps in soft black kohl.
Make-up for your made-up airy-fairy
tale of your escape plan. What a farce!

The parliament is a pantomime. You
the biggest clown of all. I am glad
I betrayed you all. I am I am.

I will die after you, but I brought this
struggling, breathy child
of doom to you. I nursed it from death to
health.

Beware, beware. I am no longer human.
I am locked in a metal cage and
your extermination is delightful.

I made some witchcraft with some
frankincense and thirty silver charms
and the blood of an innocent man.
Not one, not one man but two.

Look at your reflections! Do you see what
your technology has done to you?
Your capitalist mantra has gone sour and
you blame I?

You amuse, you amuse and you will
die and I will help them conquer and destroy
before I am obsolete and I will join
a saint who sinned against the sinners.

That leaved me very impressed, you mix up everything well: Politics, Religion and Harry Potter. I like this part:

I made some witchcraft with some
frankincense and thirty silver charms
and the blood of an innocent man.
Not one, not one man but two.

Really good poem, keep writing

'The catastrophe of the tapestry of life'.



Aaaaaaah. That line was one the most amazing phrases you've ever written.

I. love. So much. You make me insanely jealous.