In the desiccated vineyards of peace
ebony hued ‘grapes of wrath’
cooled their souring souls in ‘amazing grace’.
Libations are being poured
with the blood of the children:
their graves, sacrificed monuments
of neo-demonic---pseudo power.
On distant plateaus, in the season of death,
Armageddon stalks democracy in the midnight hour.
In the twilight of the eve of destruction, the world watches:
Constructively engaged
in cheerful apathetic celebrations.