The beasts of 2016

How?

How 

How 

How 

How 

How did we get here?

I see the monsters in these men 

see their hate 

and their fear 

 

Where did they come from?

demons don't just slither up shower drains 

these arn't beasts of hell

they hail from the swamps

and the small towns  

The old kingdoms that fell 

 

Abandoned and forgotten

They know the taste

of the dirt floor 

of dank, desperate hopelessness  

and they want more?

 

Satan smiles 

and shakes his head 

but he doesn't smile with joy

he smiles with dread

"Poor fools"

he wails 

"they're better off dead!"

 

Divine intervention? 

It must be.

The blood seeps through the walls 

riots in the streets 

but still heaven calls 

 

It's time 

another flood? 

The second coming? 

Time's running out

Surely there's something 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741