I had to re-upload this poem, due to a stupid mistake on my part
What will you do when your Kings and Wizards have disappeared?
For the incessant fires will permeate the land.
Your flock of Sheep will melt away and the
Creepy Crawlies will gambol in your ashes.
Those who wore black eyeliner and gaudy smiles
Will be interred in the pits of endless valleys.
Our indignation will fuel the whispered hopes
Of tethered children and haggard men.
A lacerated women will limp sullenly around the
Haunted forests, sprinkling salt along
The consecrated river banks.
The sea is stagnant, the moon despondent.
They’ll follow the hissing into
The sun cannot rise.