THE ESCHATON AND BEYOND

(apocalyptic messages at the threshold of hades)

I.

I SAW THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS

i saw the twilight of the gods
when the once powerful were stripped
of their scepter like a child whose
lollipop was snatched from her mouth.

i saw how the gods had fallen
and are now roaming the desert
looking for a heaven in the
hell that they made. i have seen the

gods that refuse to die because
they know that gods are supposed to
be eternal even if worms
and maggots have consumed their souls.


II.

ETERNITY IN THE WIND

eternity at the tip
of a bullet that dips in
the warm blood of hope and dreams
creates haunting ghosts and goblins
that inhabit the wasteland
where the howlings of the wild
dominate the wind and smoke.


III.

WHO WILL TREAD THE PATH OF DEATH

who will tread the path of death
when the laughter of haughty barbarians
fill the air that stinks with the smell
of sweat and burps of cheap liquor
amid a carousing crowd at the thick
of a revelry to celebrate a distorted life?

who will embrace the two-edged sword
of desperation when fear reigns high
in the heart of an impostor escaping
from the sight of a deep ravine
and now makes his way towards the womb
of the dark forest that surrounds
the mire of death ready to swallow even his soul?


IV.

DESTRUCTION AMIDST ARMAGEDDON

the last storm has brought heaps of debris
burying corpses of shattered dreams
washed out in muddy floods. so that e'en
the pain of hopelessness is leveled
off by the wings of lost sanity.

branches are now breaking once again
and the whistling wind intensifies.
the sky is getting dark and no one
dares to witness the firepower of
destruction amidst armageddon.


V.

IN THE SILENCE OF WARS' CLASSIC TRAGEDIES

the steel-cold nights have long stolen
the eagle-spirit that animates the warrior's will,
once soaring high over battles among principalities and powers

the towers have long been abandoned and the battlefield
is now a desolation, no more offensives and rear guards
in the silence of wars' classic tragedies.

the halls of fame have long been ruined;
memories and honors, all scattered and trampled,
broken on dusty pavements, forgotten, desecrated.

for in the skirmishes and collisions
of violent forces in the arena of earthly life
there is not a single victor; only losers and tragic praises.