~ End Times ~

Not a day goes by
Where I don’t think about
Breaking this world apart
I’m sick of seeing these people
Potential shiners of light
Drifting like rain clouds
Through dead streets
Devoid of imagination
Vision and spirit.

They do not see life how it is
On their one ticket to the show
They sit staring at screens
Sticking their heads in the sand
Missing the cosmic magic.

Not a day goes by
Where I don’t want to scream
And let the shriek of my soul
Bellow out across this city
To shaken the windows
Of those who sit in slumber
Stale minds on sofas
Who do not hear the music
That plays outside
In the trees.

How am I going to make it
Another forty or fifty years
Without losing my mind
Having to face these people
And talk to them in their language
It is the language of dead
And I long to be alive.

I won’t accept this lifestyle anymore
Or this government pissing on me
Or the companies pissing on me
As they continually raise their prices
While wages stagnant.

The collapse is coming
That is for sure
And I do not fear it.

Let the whole system fall down, I say
Let it be biblical and messy
I want to see the look in the eyes of everyone
As they see that the life they lived 
Was nothing more than some illusion
Built on shifting sands.

Then they will stand in the wasteland
Where they will be asked to look inside themselves
And see what they are made of
To see what they have left
To see if they saved enough of their soul
To endure the end times.

The glorious end times.