Vision

 The team wants 

Plague at the Ministry of Health and 

Death at the head of the 

Ministry of War, 

and they have a plan for War but call it "Peace"

and Famine is the economy 

they've planned for. 

As if being dictated to from some

ancient book both allegorical 

and with a meaning obscure,

and decided these were blueprints

for an endgame of

forevermore. 

They are tempting the hand of 

the one they believe in, deceiving

and calling it the way--

a little game for little boys 

in grown spiritual dress-up

LARPing prophecy. 

I can't forgive them for what they are doing.

I think they deserve eternal screwing. 

And maybe that is not poetic, 

by my noetic self.

But I call them pathetic.

Judgment calls for us all someday--

not one day--

and no prince of this earth, no more than any dog

will fail to have his. 

And you will get well and truly done as you did. 

Because the blood of Abel 

cried out, 

and that was no anomaly.

And the little gray cells of time

are a great detective. 

And something in mankind is defective--

But we aren't all burning for it. 

Damnit. 

Nor yearning for it--

so can it.