The Non-Conscience Clause

It�s the end of the world. Meteors are crashing down onto the earth. You will be dead in a matter of hours. How do you handle the situation? Do you make your peace, repent and trust in god, or do you smite the heavens and burn out?

 

Emptiness has become a reality.

The stars above are willing to break,

Crushing themselves for heaven’s sake.

Sit back and watch the sky collapse.

And pray to god for some breeze of truth.

That will set you free;

Give you that clarity, epiphany.

 

Don't look to the man,

With the sign in his hand.

He’s told you all along,

You never did heed the warning of;

His drunken siren song.

He laughs on like he always does-

Urine soaked sweatpants.

 

Little boys are crying,

Unwed mothers do nothing to calm their tears.

They cry along with them,

And throw up their hands,

Not praying to god, but shouting demands,

Jesus, let me live, my life to you I give!

 

The drunks are all in church,

And the pious are all whiskey in hand.

It’s the end of days in so many ways.

Unholy like and flipped around;

Inside is out, outside is unseen,

The unruly mobs are grotesque and obscene.

 

Two awkward youth, with their braces interlocked;

Are crying in the alley,

Where they’ve stolen away into serendipity.

Crying and crying and holding hands.

They handle such a paramount situation,

In such a very maladroit way.

 

Giant alien rock, extremely hot,

Falling, falling, falling, down from the heavens,

Exploding, crying, raining, burning the clouds.

Men do cry louder than females,

When they are in fear for their selfish little lives.

Women cling to their young,

The young cling to their innocence,

 

Emptiness, all alone in a world of warm bodies,

Fear, taking what was once admirable-

Churning it to ash,

Ash filling up the lungs of the hopeless and the young.

Human nature, inherently flawed,

The end of days, black clouds, emptiness.