XVI

Come, take my hand 

and stand with me on the edge

of the apocalypse

Put on your red shoes 

and jive with me

in tribute to our fallen Duke of Brixton

Listen to the doves as they

cry a lament 

for our purple Paisley Park demi-god 

Fall down on your knees and 

pray with me for

the lives of the brothers and sisters we lost 

through the hands of the hate of others

Dance with me on the edge

of the hell fire 

of the blood-red dawn spawning of an uncertain dawn

Revel in the masochism 

of the simple act of logging in and facing where we are

Dancing with the devil 

twenty-four-seven

regardless of the presence of a pale moonlight

Come, take my hand

and stand with me on the edge

This is not the end

This is not the end

although it might feel like the Grand Finale

This is not the end