Mid Times

End Times are nigh!

Visible in imaginative counterwise parallax

When innocents die

Seduced and dancing, and

Fear not attacks

When flesh suffers wounds, breaches unprecedented

And naïvité's open doors swing stuck open

Apoplectic spectator minds, inert and disoriented

Cannot halt the butchery-slippery sloping

Kill all those who can read

Shoot the whites of their eyes through their glasses

Kill the kneeling who plead

On prayer rugs' lies floating up with their ashes

Kill those of the cross, star, or crescent

Excepting what's yours so dutifully venerated

Vet their religion, their nation, their parents

Condemn the sin of appeasing the tolerated

Burn those disreputing your thing, of itself

And holy words, you are taught, that must be read

Let their heads roll gaily on god's trophy shelf

When mouths speak against what's goodly, godly said

Between each Hudnah the bar can be lowered

Paths of resistance wear the wardrobes of theater

The bilious venom bleeds darkly colored

Red, yellow, black, and greener

The world as we know it, hangs weak-linked tethered

Dismiss how much worse stage cues can call

And how the Mid Times' horrors portend End Crimes to come

Though La Condition humaine's curtain won't fall

Times do not end, only Mid Times for some