by
Michael Steele
| Mother earth raped and left to wait in the cold, tendrels of rage swirl deep in her folds, and seep from angered nostrils. Fiberglass slats invision prey; men who blindly wander to a preset date. Snarls and drool are issued, on wind of war. The lust of victory and kill, ooze from vein and pore, like innocent blood splattered on a wall, She is a beast cornered, mangled shoulders hunched, a hurricane in a bottle, her mighty powers are uncorked, The betrayed mother fore warns, but we heed not these signs, and then we are clinched, in crimson stained teeth, as merciless jaws vice, humanities last breath. |
