Another Fallen Number
I thought… I smelled Revolution today
As my head was jerked
Violently from the sand
I felt a strange vibration
Like a locomotive heading to hell
Black… Smoking… Blowing steam
With a steel wheel out of balance
I realized… My day of reckoning was today
In the presence… Of looming impending doom
Doom so close… The coldness burned my skin
Strange… I thought about the grayness of statistics
Created by men
Standing outside the grasp of doom
Turning humans… Into ragged silhouettes
…Another fallen number…
The television tells future silhouettes… Just follow
Silhouettes… Waiting to be thrown on the pile
Of lost dreams and foolish pride
A pile of great diversity
Of believers and stupidity
Silhouettes… Once all immune to the shadow
Of the looming…Impending doom
Doom that once moved so slow
It seemed motionless
But it gathered speed and vibration
Fueled by gray numbers and greed
With the fears and tears of wasted years
Now it cannot be stopped… It will not
Not by faith… Hope… Or prayer
Not by artificial… Gold… Or legends told
Its physics… It’s inevitable
That a world out of balance
By the weight of greed
Must right itself
In total destruction
The Wordsmiths Abyss-
Poetry From The Abyss Beyond Thought.
© Paul H. Keeler… A Cosmic Cowboy
A Cosmic Cowboy 