Thursday, September 10, 2015

The Final Sunset

There is no pleasing it,
This scattered tableau of sin,
Devouring every kindness and repaying it with spite.

For every heartfelt offering a new insult, a fresh attack
A black crust congeals and hardens o'er the Earth

Until at last there can be no more offerings
And evil spits its last breath with a curse unheard

Oily spittle defacing the last tapestry

As sun and blue skies retreat with mournful dignity
Leaving nothing but the stars' cold pity. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

And I thought we were having a bad day. This is just like logging onto Freedom BBS! Old skool Turtle.

Well, I have a new addition for my bucket list: sneak a bottle of olive oil into a museum, swill some, and then spit at the wall hangings.

Oh dang, best keep this "Anonymous" just in case oily spittle on tapestries comes to pass.