Tribute To A Dead Poet

Wars and war rumors consume a peaceful wish, neighbor fears neighbor, the godless sky bleeds. Another mortal wound, another mother's grief, hungry children await their father's return. Addiction stalks longing with a corporate prayer to consumptive greed. Politicos turn their gaze from serving the people to claw for pride money. The gambler lays a bet, the robber pulls a gun, honest wages looted. One vague poet writes odd notes and memories of a lost green planet. The dark aged wisdom of the evil backstreet is in the hustler's eyes. Crass guiltless merchants rub their fat paunches glutted by slave profit. On a dry burnt sandhill a gray preacher rants against crazed sinning, his eyes to a dead sun. Our priests and mentors betray youthful dreams with lustful perversion. No brave and shining world we have created, no shelter from evil. Moping youth lodge claims, foolish aperies of wisdom, arrogant with stupidity. Putrid ashen air surrounds a doubtful future with pale deceptions of hope. Still the dead whisper in rancid cathedrals that god's awful angel waits in a nightmare to redeem faint terror. In secret coven meetings, alphabetical ledgers due, bony demon fingernails tally our debt and profit.