A poet in a world without onions
doesn't see the clouds as white.
In a world without apples
clowns' noses aren't red.
The world has no color.
The rivers have become blood;
There is nothing to eat
and humanity dies.
The soothsayers and prophets
are ground to dust.
Their prophecies, forgotten.
The darkness overwhelms you.
It chokes you,
and it wants to cover you until you die.
You are nameless, unimportant,
and foretold to walk the earth forever
speaking the faults of those you hated
as if daring them to disturb their graves
and come back for vengence
just so you can kill them once again,
and become the hated.